Peter Pan III
by Sarah Pevensie
Summary: Disney Verse Jane's new and only daughter, Margaret, dreams of going to Neverland and to meet Peter Pan, just like her mother and grandmum Wendy. When Peter Pan does come and takes her with him, she's in for an adventure of a lifetime.
1. Prologue

**Prologue **

Ever since her adventure in Neverland, Jane never stopped believing in Peter Pan. To Wendy's great joy, she would find Jane in her little brother's room night after night, repeating again and again of her adventure in Neverland with Peter Pan and the Lost Boys. It had made Wendy smile so widely to see little Danny pouting jealously, but eagerly listening on Jane's story. This led Danny to sleep every time with a happy grin marked on his face, and this happened every night. Wendy remembered of how Jane was Danny's age, and it was Wendy who told her little girl her story, her adventure. How Wendy loved retelling the stories of Peter Pan to her children. For her, this was her way of keeping her faith in Peter Pan close to her heart.

Right before her eyes, her own children began to grow up, as Wendy and her brothers have done before. Jane and Danny grew from little kids to teenagers as they left to High School and started hanging out with their friends. Wendy would love to look at how her children are becoming beautiful and older, not to mention taller. She would often fear of her children having lost their belief in Peter Pan and Neverland until one night, when Wendy peeked into Jane's room to see Jane sleeping so peacefully, clutching close to her small, Peter Pan doll. This sight brought tears to Wendy's eyes.

Soon, her children grew to become adults. They found jobs, got married, and moved out of their house as Wendy watched them go, sorrowful tears pouring from her eyes. She knew she was growing old herself, but what was sad the most was seeing her children living their own lives; away from their mother. Danny and his new wife moved to the countryside, where they lived happily with their children. Jane and her new husband still live in London. But only streets away from where Wendy lived. It was there that Jane bore her only child; a baby girl whom she named Margaret. Wendy was crying for joy to see and hold her little grandchild in her winkling arms.

Wendy was now an old woman, living alone with Nana Two. Her husband had passed away, bringing sorrow to Wendy and her children. Jane wanted Wendy to stay with her family, but Wendy refused. She couldn't leave the one place that reminded her so much of Peter Pan. So Jane would come to visit her mother every week, bringing little Margaret with her.

"Grandmum!" Little Margaret would yell excitedly as she ran on her small legs to hug her grandmother in her very small arms. Wendy was always delighted to see Margaret. But what made her even happier was when she saw Margaret's tiny hand clutching on Jane's old, Peter Pan doll.

At every visit, Margaret would sleep in the old nursery room. And every night, she would ask her grandmum to tell her Peter Pan stories, while she would look up at the second star to the right, where a gateway to Neverland resides. Wendy was so pleased to tell those stories once again. She could see Margaret's faith growing stronger than ever. Margaret loved hearing all those wonderful stories and have told Wendy constantly of her dreams of meeting Peter Pan himself and to follow him to Neverland; to have an adventure, just like her grandmum and her mummy. Sometimes, Wendy would look out at the window to see if Peter Pan has returned, looking for someone to be his mother. There was no doubt that Margaret would fit the position perfectly.

But soon, everything went terrible wrong on one stormy night. Wendy was sitting and quietly swinging on her rocking chair, knitting new clothes for Margaret. Nana Two was trying to sleep next to Wendy, but the dog was irritatingly disturbed by the storm. A hard knock was heard on the front door, so Wendy slowly and weakly rose up from her seat and walked to the door, Nana Two following obediently. Wendy opened the door to unexpectedly see Jane and Margaret in the rain, greeted with miserable and broken looks. Wendy permitted them both in, seeing in their faces that something has gone wrong. After ordering Nana Two to take Margaret to the nursery room, Jane told Wendy everything that had happened: her husband was killed in an accident and Jane could no longer live in her house, taking care of her daughter alone. She pleadingly asked Wendy for her and her daughter to stay here with Wendy, to which Wendy, with no hesitation, answered yes.


	2. Ch1 Playing at the Park

**Chapter 1**

**Playing at the Park**

And that's how our story begins. Jane and Margaret now lived with Wendy and they all couldn't be happier (well, for Wendy and Margaret). Although she was deeply distressed on losing her father, Margaret was overjoyed to stay with her grandmum every single day of her life. She now slept in the nursery room, where she could open her large window and stare up into the darkness sky every night, her eyes only on the second star to the right. And Wendy would always visit her young granddaughter so that she could tell her more stories about Peter Pan. The more she heard all those stories, the more Margaret wondered when it would be her turn to go to Neverland with her own adventure, just like her mum and grandmum.

A few years have gone by and, although she is no longer a little child anymore, Margaret still believed in Peter Pan. Sadly, she couldn't make friends because of her beliefs. All she had were her Peter Pan doll and her puppy, born from Nana Two. Out of all the puppies that Nana Two gave birth to one day, Margaret chose to keep the littlest and the most playfulness puppy as her pet, naming her new puppy Little Nana (though she would nickname her puppy Little for short). Everyday, Margaret would take Little out to the park, where they would play together. They would regularly play catch, but instead of a ball, Margaret would throw her Peter Pan doll, creating an illusion that it was flying on its own, just like the real one. Whenever she threw it, however, Margaret would often gaze up at her doll lovingly, as if it was just a beautiful star itself. She would habitually stare at it for too long to notice Little handing it back to her after successfully catching it; Little's teeth gripping on the doll softly to avoid ruining Margaret's very special possession.

The park was one of the two places that made her feel so young and happy (the first was her nursery room/bedroom). It was where she would play with Little, and it was also where she would watch little children play in a playground, surrounded by an ocean of white sand. Margaret watched the little children from afar, studying them build castles out of sand, sliding down on the miniature slide, or even swinging on the swings.

Sometimes, Little would run to one of the children alone, dancing around it as if Little's way of asking to play. Margaret would walk over to join Little and the child and soon they all found themselves playing together. Playing with younglings became sort of her favorite pastime from then on. Even though the children's parents were there to watch and play with them, Margaret was always there to fool around with the little ones, as if they were her playmates. She loved watching them run around in circles, chasing each other and giggling gleefully. She loved their cute, little smile shining on their faces whenever they play a game or meeting another playmate. And she loved their small, innocent eyes glowing with happiness. Margaret could just stare at them for a long time.

_If only they could stay like that forever_, Margaret would often wonder to herself. _Where they never have to grow up_.

"Well, well, well! Look what I found fellas!" a vile voice called out far behind Margaret. She winced irritably and groaned, knowing exactly who the voice belonged to. She could imagine that same group of teenagers around her age, staring mockingly at her back.

There were six boys and four girls in the group. They were greatly admired at Margaret's school. They were involved in major sports, cleverly smart, and always at the right time to make a show to anyone with fascinated eyes. Everyone loved them, because they saw that group as role models for future heroes.

But the group wasn't exactly heroes at all. In fact, they would use their fame for advantages. They would strut everywhere, showing off either their new style clothes or just to show themselves off. They would snobbishly reject hopeful children when asked for their help. What's more, they spent their times teasing anyone they feel up to. Sometimes those teasing led to violence. But whenever a teacher caught them, the group would sneak out of trouble and blame on the victim. Because the teachers also loved the group, the teacher excused them and turned to the victim, punishing cruelly. That was another talent they had: sneaking out of trouble.

Margaret hated that group with all her heart, soul, mind, everything. She hated them so much that she designated them "The Villain Gang" or just the "V Gang". She saw no reason why they shouldn't be punished. So one day, using her clever mind, she had the principle caught the V Gang on the spot and they were immediately expelled from her school. Margaret was relieved at the thought of never seeing them again. Boy was she wrong!

She now saw them every afternoon at the park, much to her annoyances. They would ride their bikes close together as they passed by. At first, they didn't notice Margaret; always lost in their own world. But it wasn't long before they spotted her and instantly teased at her once they saw her playing with the smaller children on the playground with Little. Every since then, whenever they pass the park, they would take the opportunity to tease her of, in their own words, "being a baby in a sandbox". And every time, Margaret struggled to ignored them, though that attempt was weakening each time. If she was lucky, the V Gang would either get lost in their world again or not come that day, as they usually do. But today, her luck didn't come.

"Just ignore them," Margaret muttered to herself, as she busied herself by playing with Little and a four-year-old boy in the sand; they were trying to build a "sandman" out of sand, which they haven't progressed yet. "You ignore them, they'll ignore you . . . eventually."

"Looks like her mummy hadn't picked her up yet!" Bobby, believed to be the leader of the V Gang (who always started the teasing), continued, making sure his voice was loud enough for Margaret to hear him. "Did she finally realized what a baby you are and abandoned you?" He laughed unkindly as the V Gang joined in, laughing harshly.

Out of all the insults Bobby threw out, this was the one that finally struck her angry. Margaret never liked anyone to insult her family, mostly her mum and grandmum. She loved them so much and didn't think they deserved it. They were so special to her and ever since her father died, she had them to care for.

The thing was, no one knew of her situation and if they did, they never brought it up. That is, until now.

Her head shot back, staring hard at Bobby. "Don't you dare say that about my mum!" she threatened.

"Whoa," one of them, a stoutly boy, spoke to the others. "Where did THAT come from?"

"Yeah," a skinny blond girl agreed. "I didn't expect to hear a temper from a child!"

The whole V Gang laughed again even more cruelly. Margaret's anger was still burning inside her, but forced herself to cool down. She didn't want any more trouble with them. She turned her back toward the V Gang as she returned to playing with Little and the small boy.

"Hey, don't you have a father too?" called out Bobby. Margaret froze. This she didn't expect to hear.

"Yeah, he doesn't seem to be around either!" exclaimed another one of them. "Does that mean he deserted you?"

Margaret's head shot back, anger returning, only increased.

"My father would never leave me!" she shouted in rage, but she knew better. Her father had left her; through death. She could never see him again.

Bobby stared at her, a wicked smile creeping out as if he could read her sorrowful thoughts of her father through her mind.

"He did leave you, did he?" he taunted her, while the V Gang watched in excitement. Margaret tried to respond, but her throat clogged up, as if preventing words to leave her mouth.

"What's wrong girl? Is he not coming back?"

Margaret's fists clenched slowly, her nails digging in her palm. Little carefully watched Margaret, sensing the worse to come.

"Is he even alive?"

Margaret's anger rose, but struggled to cool it down. "Be quiet," she murmured bitterly.

As if knowing what's to come, Little used her small mouth to grip the small boy's pants and gently pulled him away from the scene. The boy, oblivious to the group and the tension, gleefully followed Little to wherever the puppy led him.

"He's not, is he?" Bobby continued to taunt her, only slowly and cruelly.

"I said be quiet," Margaret murmured louder, her voice dangerously low in warning. Her fist clenched harder and her eyes burning in flames of anger. She had the strongest urge to hit Bobby so hard that he wouldn't even know his own name. Then the rest of the V Gang would run for their lives in fear of her wrath, never to come back again. Oh, how she would very much like to do all that now. However, her mum repeatedly and sternly told her that violence is never the answer and that it will only cause more trouble. But that did not help her calm down in any way.

"He _is_ dead, isn't he?" Bobby merrily sneered. He turned to the V Gang.

"Stop it," Margaret said, trying to control her mounting rage and to prevent tears that had formed in her eyes from dropping visibly. Bobby, as usual, ignored her.

"You hear that?" Bobby shouted to his group. "Her father's dead!" Half of the group laughed harshly again, only louder, while the other half (mostly the girls) muttered to each other, an interesting and unpleasant smile on their faces. Margaret was beginning to get sick with fury.

"I SAID STOP IT!" Margaret shouted as loud as she could, not caring if anyone else heard her. All that mattered was that Bobby was hurting her by using her father.

"Or what?" Bobby challenged Margaret, clearly showing his arrogance and his cruel enjoyment, as if wining a big tournament. "You'll run to daddy and beg him to get rid of us?" He displayed his mock realization. "Oh, that's right! You're daddy's dead! Ha, ha!"

He and the V Gang laughed even louder, as if they wanted the whole London to hear them.

That's it! Her rage finally broke out. She's had enough! She wasn't going to listen to this anymore! Her blood boiled high in her brain, releasing all of her anger in the open. She neglected everything of what her mum always taught her! She wanted Bobby to pay for what he said to her, feel the pain she was feeling right now.

She absentmindedly reached down and clutched a large amount of sand tightly in her fist.

"Hey!" Margaret shouted at Bobby. He turned around, ready to strike back with more insulting words. But before he even opened his mouth, Margaret furiously threw her sand right at his eyes. He screamed in pain, his hands on his eyes hoping to ease the burning pain. The V Gang froze, shocked at Margaret's unexpected action.

"Did that hurt?" Margaret taunted back at Bobby, displaying her impression of Bobby's low and harsh voice. "Don't worry, it'll only hurt it just a . . . few . . . hours!" She added the last words, each paused with deep fury.

Blind in soreness, he stroked his fist in her direction hard. But Margaret stepped back, grinning mischievously. This was the sight worth seeing.

"Get her!" He howled to the V Gang. On command, all the boys from the group charged after Margaret. Her smile wickedly grew wider as she ran off from them. For all she knew, they were the thickest boys in the whole city. Instead of chasing her, the girls watched and cheered for the boys, making the chase more exciting, like an exhilarating hunt.

Margaret quickly ran to a large playground later and climbed up the ladder before the boys could catch her. She looked back at the boys. Suddenly, Margaret did not see those pursuing boys anymore. Instead, she saw Captain Hook's deadly pirates, ready to slit her throat with their sharp swords. This brought a reckless smile and an adventurous twinkle on her eyes. When real-life danger came before her, Margaret would turn the tables and make it all make-believe.

Once all the boys reached the top of the ladder, Margaret was gone.

"Where'd she go?" the stoutly boy thought aloud. They all nodded frustratingly as they searched around.

All of a sudden, Margaret swung straight toward them from the roof of the playground, and kicked the boys hard. Just like bowling pins, they all knocked down together and fell on a small slide, falling to the ground together. Margaret jumped down from her hold and took a moment to smile proudly down at the defeated boys before racing off.

After all the boys struggled to get up, they chased her again. The girls cheered louder. Margaret rushed to the swings, where she was halted by one of the boys, a muscled, brown haired teen with a victorious smirk. She turned around, only to see before her another one, a tall and thin teen. Both of the boys prepared to charge after her. But at that moment, Margaret seized one of the swings and swung away, causing the boys to slam into each other instead. Margaret laughed as they fell stupidly on the sandy ground.

But her laughter was cut short when three other boys pursued after her. She jumped off of the swing and ran to a nearby tree. As quick as she could, she climbed up the tree, while the surviving boys followed her. They made an attempt to climb the tree too, but only one of them managed to go the farthest. The second one, the stoutly boy, became too tired to climb, while the third boy fell off and landed on top of the stoutly boy.

After looking down to see one hunter, Margaret climbed higher and higher until she made it to the very top of the tree. There was no other escape to find. She was trapped.

"Give it up girl!" the climbing boy hollered at her. "There's nowhere else to go!"

Margaret knew this was true, for the boy was getting closer and closer. She had to think of another plan quick. _What would Peter Pan do?_

Then an idea hit her. She tore a tree limb about the length of her upper arm from the tree branch and jumped down until she and the climbing boy were facing each other. Margaret gripped and raised her tree limb at him the way she would use a sword.

"Who said I was going anywhere," she said conceitedly. "If you want me, you are going to have to defeat me."

"You have got to be kidding me," the boy scoffed.

"It's your choice."

The climbing boy stared at her in disbelief until, groaning frustratingly, the boy also ripped a nearby tree limb, pointing superciliously at her. To her amusement, his tree limb was three inches shorter that hers.

With that in mind, Margaret lightly stroked her tree limb at the boy at first, so she wouldn't hurt him. The climbing boy easily blocked it and waved his tree limb at her as if bored of this silly game already.

Seeing this, Margaret then had a brilliant thought. She rapidly twirled her tree limb at his and pulled his tree limb out of his grip, leaving him unarmed. Before he could react, Margaret stomped roughly on a branch the climbing boy was standing on. The branch shook violently and the climbing boy hugged the nearest branch he saw, screaming so high Margaret laughed at his voice that sounded so much like a frightened girl.

Leaving the boy preoccupied, Margaret jumped down and, without knowing, landed hard on the two waiting boys. She gave them a few good kicks at them before she raced off.

Margaret looked back to see all the damage she created. She saw two of the struggling boys, back at the swings, striving to pick themselves up and trying vainly to avoid the swings. She turned and spotted the tree, where the climbing boy dropped down from above. To her amusement, he accidentally landed on the two other boys who where just getting up from the ground. Now they all fell into a big pile of dim-witted boys.

Margaret laughed so hard at the whole sight she made that she clutched her aching sides, her laughter never ceasing. But a cheer from one of the girls caught her attention.

"Get her Bobby! Get her!"

Margaret spun around just in time to miss a blow from Bobby's fist. His eyes were burning red, but Margaret could see they were getting redder with rage as he swung more failed blows at her.

"You'll pay for that!" he shouted at her. "You're gonna pay! You're gonna feel the pain now! That'll teach you!"

His knocks were becoming quicker and, although Margaret avoided each of them, she knew it wouldn't last.

Just before he made another attempt to punch her, Bobby screamed in more pain. Little was gnawing his leg, determined to save her human friend. Bobby kicked his leg, furiously trying to get Little off of him.

"Get off, you mutt!" he cried at Little.

Little at last released her bite. Wrathfully, Bobby raised his foot over Little, preparing to squish the puppy. Little whimpered in fear.

"No!" Margaret screamed. Without catching herself, she pushed Bobby as hard as she could and tenderly gathered Little into her arms. Little thankfully licked Margaret's cheek, causing Margaret to giggle.

"Are you alright Little," Margaret asked Little, greatly concerned over her small and innocent but brave puppy. Little nodded her head and barked as in yes, her tail wagging. Margaret hugged Little close to her heart, very relieved that Little was safe from a fuming Bobby.

"Margaret Anne Rose Benson!" a shrilled voice spread over the whole playground. Everyone there stood extremely still, a frozen silence in the calm air. Margaret's whole face fell. She knew the owner of the voice and wished with all her heart that she was wrong. She slowly and guiltily turned around to meet the raging eyes of her mother.

"What Did You Do Young Lady?!?!" Her mum demanded, her fist resting impatiently on her hips. Margaret has seen enough of her mum's wrath to retain every right to fear her. When her mum was like that, even a ferocious lion would be silent at once and cower in terror. No one would mess with her mum in this state, for it would only get worse.

"It wasn't my fault," Margaret protested. Little jumped off of Margaret's embrace and hid behind Margaret's leg, peaking at the two of them, frightened.

"The How Do You Explain The Damage You Brought To Those Boys?"

"They were asking for it mum! They were going to beat me up!"

"That Does Not Mean You Have To Get Involve With Violence Yourself! Honestly, Haven't I Taught You Enough?"

Margaret stood silent, her hear bowed shamefully as she had to suffer another of her mum's lecture on using violence. Margaret tried to explain to her mum her side of the story, but her mum would have none of it. She could almost hear some of the teens behind her snicker.

"Now You Go And Apologize To Them Right Now!"

"But mum-"

"Now Margaret!"

Margaret huffed in dissatisfaction as she turned around to face the V Gang. The girls were hauling each of the boys as they all stared at her with very cruel looks. Margaret's uncaring feeling slowly disappeared at their faces as she made her way to them. Right in front of them was Bobby with the most revolted look Margaret has ever seen. He just stared at her with his hot red eyes.

For a moment, no one dared to speak. Margaret felt very uncomfortable with just looking at them to speak. And it didn't help to feel her mum's presence behind her, sensing her mum's eyes upon her.

Finally, Margaret gathered what's left of her courage and spoke. "Uh . . . I'm . . . really sorry."

"Heh, hem," she heard her mum coughed loud enough for Margaret to hear her.

"For," Margaret continued hesitantly. "Hurting all of you and . . . will you forgive me?" she added with a low mumble. But she was heard.

All at once, the whole V Gang was shouting angrily at her. Margaret, even though she wanted to, couldn't shout back, knowing her mum's unmerciful punishment if she even tried.

She noticed that Bobby was the only one who wasn't shouting at her. He didn't even say a word. And once the V Gang noticed this too, they all stopped their shouting. The V Gang fell silent as they watched Bobby in anticipation. He was still staring hard with the same look on Margaret.

"Eh . . . so," Margaret started, rubbing her arm awkwardly. "I take it that's a no?"

"You sicken me." Bobby ultimately said to her. "No wonder you don't have any friends. No one would ever want to be friends with a child who still believes in childish stories. You have nothing because of that. Why don't you just GROW UP!"

Margaret froze in shock, a sharp stab in her chest by those words. No one had ever told her that. Sure she had no friends, but to hear the real reason why? Because she still believed in Peter Pan and Neverland, stories that are now considered as childish fantasy? Grandmum and mum always told her that Peter Pan and Neverland are very real. They themselves saw them with their own eyes. But could they all be childish stories too?

_What if it's true_, Margaret thought painfully. _What if what they're all saying is true? That I'm a child who could never fit in! That what I believe in are all just childish beliefs! _Normally, she would care less of what anyone thought of her; she was use to the teasing. Plus, she had Little with her and that was all she needed. However, Margaret couldn't help but feel very lonely; there was no one else to share her thoughts, dreams, and beliefs with her and not insult her because if it. It seemed hard for her to make friends, all of them grown up at her age and more interested on other things.

But she had always loved being a child. A child would be free and would dance around without a care in the world. A child would have more fun and could play as whomever she wants, no matter what anyone says. A child is easily loved and could easily love others. Oblivious to the world, oblivious to the real danger . . . oblivious to real pain.

If only there was one who was like her. Then they would be friends and play together and Margaret wouldn't feel lonely anymore.

At that moment, Margaret couldn't decide what felt worse: growing up or staying a child.

"That's enough," Her mum abruptly exclaimed, storming up to the V Gang. She stood next to Margaret, who was so close to crying she had to blink faster to stop them. "Now you apologize to my daughter right now, or there will be consequences!"

Bobby didn't respond, or made any move proving he was listening. He gave Margaret one last disgusted look before he wordlessly (and blindly) walked away, with the skinny blond girl as his guide. The whole V Gang also gave Margaret the same look before each of them followed Bobby to their bikes and rode off.

Margaret stood very still, watching them rode away without another glance, leaving her to review what Bobby said to her. She felt tears building up more, replaying all those hurtful words in her head, but again she blinked it all back. She heard Little whimpering in comfort as she rubbed her small head against Margaret's leg. Her mum looked at her daughter with concerned and grief and laid her hand on her shoulder, gripping it reassuringly. Without thinking, Margaret followed her mum's pressure on her shoulder as her mum led her out of the park including Little trailing behind them with sad eyes.

Soon, they've reached their quiet home. Margaret mutely walked away from her mum and up the stairs to her room. After allowing Little inside, Margaret closed the door and moved to her bed. There, her Peter Pan doll sat at her pillow, waiting for her arrival as always. She picked the doll up and took the time to admire it, remembering all the stories and adventures that involved Peter Pan, a boy who refuses to grow up.

"At least you get to live in a childish world," Margaret muttered miserably, tears released from her eyes. "Where no one cares if you are acting like a child." Clutching her doll, she fell on her bed and cried.

Little watched Margaret from the floor with distressing eyes just studying Margaret crying after that horrible event at the park. Little jumped onto the bed and snuggled comfortingly into Margaret's arms. Without looking up, Margaret wrapped her arms around Little and held her as tight as she could, desperately trying to avoid what happened back at the park.


	3. Ch2 Waiting

**Chapter 2**

**Waiting**

Nighttime fell into the sky. The calming, cool air swept across the empty streets. The city of London was now illuminated by a radiant glow, blocking most of the stars to appear in the sky. An almost full moon rested heavenly onto the dark and gentle night. Just another peaceful and undisturbed night here in London.

Wendy sat by the window on her rocking chair, sewing an unfinished blanket she planned to give to her son's youngest child. Nana Two lay quietly in front of the burning fireplace. Once in a while, Nana Two would glance up at Wendy, as if on high alert on protecting her owner.

In spite of her work in sewing, Wendy's mind was not entirely on her blanket. A few hours ago, she was approached by Jane, whose eyes were filled with grief and her head down desolately. Worried, Wendy escorted Jane to the living room, where they sat down and talked.

Jane told Wendy that she has just come back from the park to pick up Margaret. When she got there, she saw, to her shock, her own daughter, playfully hurting the boys who were chasing her around the park. Annoyed at what Margaret was doing, Jane stopped Margaret and ordered her to apologize. What Jane didn't expect was that one of the boys said the most horrible words to Margaret and meant it with all his fury. Jane could see it broke Margaret's heart and, after bringing her home, Margaret went straight to her room without a word. Jane could swear she heard Margaret crying in her room from downstairs.

After telling Wendy what happened, Jane's face became even more depressed, bowing her head even lower, mumbling of how she could have fixed this problem. Wendy studied Jane with a sympathy and cheerless frown until she gathered Jane into her arms in comfort, assuring her that there was nothing Jane could have done.

Ever since then, Wendy was very troubled on Margaret. Her problems seemed more disturbing than what Wendy or Jane went through when they were young. Wendy was distressed of having to grow up, when she wanted to remain a child. Jane wanted to grow up, but couldn't abandon her childlike playfulness and beliefs. But for Margaret, she appeared to be stuck in the middle. She still has her childlike happiness and delight. However, she looked as if peer pressure is causing her to believe that growing up will make her better. This was something Wendy or Jane had never gone through before, which made Wendy very worried.

Wendy stopped her sewing when she heard the downstairs telephone ringing. Before she even attempted to arise from her chair, Jane hurried into the foyer and answered the telephone herself. It turned out it was for her, given that Jane kept talking into it. Not wanting to eavesdrop, Wendy went back to her sewing.

Soon, Jane said her goodbyes and hung up. She slowly walked up to Wendy quietly. When Wendy looked up, she was slightly surprised at Jane sudden appearance right in front of her, but she quickly recovered. She looked again at Jane to see a hesitant expression in her face. Jane was staring softly at Wendy as if wanting to speak, but her mouth never opened, though it was somewhat uneven. After one look at Jane, Wendy knew exactly what was on her mind.

"When?" Wendy asked, breaking the stilled silent.

Jane's head bend down. "Tomorrow."

"So soon?" Wendy gasped, greatly surprised.

Jane nodded. Again, silence overtook them as they remain still in thought.

Then Jane walked closer and gently took Wendy's hand into her own. "I'm sorry mum. I didn't know it would be this early either."

Wendy nodded acknowledgeable. "It's all right Jane. I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" Jane asked uncertain.

"Of course I am, dear. And I have Nana Two here to take care of me."

Nana Two, who was watching the two women with her raised heard, nodded in agreement.

"Jane," Wendy said after a quiet pause. "Have you told Margaret yet?"

Jane's eyes suddenly became filled with guilt, already answering Wendy's question. "I just couldn't tell her, mum. She'll be so devastated."

"But she will be even more devastated when she is told at the last minute," Wendy reminded her. Jane silently groaned and nodded in agreement. Wendy reached her elderly hand up to cup Jane's cheek soothingly.

"Jane, she needs to know. You can't hide this any longer. It's time for you to tell her, before it's too late."

Jane stared at Wendy for a long time before she nodded and walked painfully slow to the stairs. She paused for a moment, as if rethinking the plan. But after looking back at Wendy, who nodded at her to go on, Jane continued on with more confidence. Wendy sighed to herself before returning to her rocking chair, hoping for this to end well.

******************

Once she arrived at the door of Margaret's room, Jane halted, staring at the door. She desperately didn't want to be the one to tell Margaret of this, especially after the incident earlier at the park. But she knew that her mum was right: Margaret needs to know.

She slowly turned the knob and pushed the door open. She peeked inside to see Margaret, in her nightdress, sitting very still on the window seat. The window was opened and the curtain flowed peacefully into the room from the outside wind. Jane could see Margaret's. Little was sitting opposite from Margaret, gazing at her with concern and patience. Jane also saw Margaret holding her Peter Pan doll, looking intently at it, like it was the only thing, in this world, so beautiful to look at. Margaret finally looked away from the doll, but only to watch the sky, where the second star to the right stood shiningly high in the sky. After a minute, Margaret would look back at the doll and, after another minute, she looked up at that same star. She did this repeatedly, as her hair weakly flew from the night-air breeze, causing Jane to wonder what she was expecting. But Jane knew that, from studying Margaret's face, she was in a deep thought.

Jane quietly walked in, watching Margaret closely. She didn't want to disturb Margaret. But she knew she must.

"Margaret," she called softly.

Margaret made no move to have heard her mum, for she remained still, looking intensely at her doll.

Jane placed her hand on Margaret's shoulder. "Margaret," she said again.

This time, Margaret looked up at her mum, slightly surprised for one second to see her mother in front of her, proving that she didn't hear her enter.

"Are you all right?" Jane asked her. Margaret nodded, but Jane could see that she was still hurt from earlier. And she knew that Margaret was too stubborn to admit it. _Like mother, like daughter,_ Jane always thought to herself.

Jane took a breath. "Margaret, there's something I need to tell you." She lifted Little into her arms and sat down on where Little use to occupy next to Margaret.

"What is it, mum," Margaret asked, slightly curiously. Her mind was still elsewhere.

Jane paused hesitantly for a moment before she took a deep breath, to gain more courage, and spoke.

"Margaret . . . we're . . ." She sighed in annoyance. She decided to just get straight to the point, assuming it would be easier for her. She kindly took Margaret's hand. "Sweetie . . . we're leaving tomorrow."

"Where?" Margaret asked, finally paying close attention.

"To America," Jane uttered out in one breath. She waited for Margaret's response. She had a strange and puzzled look.

"America? Why would we be going to America? What's the special occasion?"

Jane's face fell, for she knew Margaret asked because she thought they were going to America on a vacation instead. This will be even harder for her.

Jane grabbed both Margaret's hands and squeezed them. "There is no occasion."

Margaret scrunched her eyebrows in more confusion. Jane sighed heavily as she gripped even tighter and tried again. "Margaret . . . we're moving to America . . . Tomorrow afternoon."

Margaret froze, taking all of her mum's words to sink in. Little's head popped up in shock, staring at Jane and Margaret. Jane waited patiently, somehow knowing what's to come.

"What?" Margaret finally said, her voice barley a whisper. Her eyes showed mirrors of despair and her lips trembled. "What do you mean, 'we're moving to America'?"

"I'm sorry," Jane said sincerely. "I should have told you earlier. We're going to live in America tomorrow. We can start our own life there. It would be good for us."

"But what about grandmum?" Margaret demanded, standing up with tight fisted hands by each side. Jane could see Margaret was growing stubbornly angry, again. "We can't just leave her!"

"I've already discuss this with your grandmum. She agrees that it would help."

"But who will take care of her? Who will watch her?"

"She has Nana Two to take care of her, Margaret."

Margaret was breathing hard. Her eyes were watery, causing her to blink faster to stop them. She opened her uneven mouth, but closed it and turned away, her arms around herself as if trying to comfort herself.

Jane wasn't sure what to do next. Yes, she expected yelling. But Margaret's silence made her very nervous. Jane gently moved still shocked Little off of her lap and stood up.

"Margaret," she said, resting her hand on Margaret's shoulder. But Margaret shook it off, glaring hard at her mum. Jane could see anger and fortitude in her teary eyes that still was prevented from escaping her eyelids. Jane saw so many emotions in her daughter that she took a step back.

"I'm not going," Margaret said in a low, commanding voice, as if it was her final word.

"I'm sorry Margaret. But we are leaving for America, whether you like it or not."

"I'm not going!" Margaret repeated, raising her voice. Little let out a whimper, covering her eyes from trouble.

"Margaret, you are! You cannot stay here in London; you are unhappy here!"

"You're just saying that because of what happened at the park! It won't happen again!"

"But what if it will?" Jane asked her, her voice rising just as well. "Margaret, I am only concerned about you! You don't have any friends!"

"I have Little!" Margaret argued, directing her head at Little, who peaked one eye out for two second before covering again, sensing that trouble hasn't ended.

"Little does not count; she is just a dog-"

"A puppy!" Margaret corrected. "And it does count! To me!"

"Margaret!" Jane called, struggling to control her voice from shouting in rage. "America has so many good children there; you can make friends with them!"

"I can't!" Margaret shouted, her voice slightly cracking. "I can't make friends! I'm a baby! They're right, mum! They're all right! I can't make friends, I can't grow up, but I can't stay a child! I'm nothing!"

"Margaret!" Jane, at last, raised her voice, losing control. "You are not a baby and you are certainly _not_ nothing; don't you ever listen to them! This whole problem is part of growing up! You can grow up better in Ameri-"

"I'm Not Going To America!"Margaret screamed, a tear, at last, escaped her eye and fell down slowly her cheek. "I'm Not Leaving London! I'm Not Leaving Grandmum And I'm Not . . . Leaving . . . Him!!!"

_Him?_ _Who could Margaret be talking about?_

"Margaret-"

"I'm not going, mum! I'm staying right here!" Margaret finished, turning her back against her mum and crossing her arm obstinately.

Jane opened her mouth to snap back at her. But she stopped herself when Margaret's last words rang into her head.

'_I'm not going, mum! I'm staying right here!_

To her revelation, Jane remembered those exact words she herself had said to _her _mum, long when she was young.

It was the night before she was kidnapped by Captain Hook and his pirates, taking her to Neverland, mistaking her as her mum. Her mum came in to her room and calmly told Jane that tomorrow, she and Danny will have to go to the countryside to avoid the raids from the war her family had to face each frightening night. Jane remembered that she was very upset at this news and refuse to leave, recalling her promise to take care of her family to her father before he left to fight in the war.

Jane stared at Margaret. She suddenly saw herself in Margaret's place. And that peculiarly scared Jane greatly. She never even once thought that the same action Jane showed to her mum would repeat itself through _her _own daughter. It shook Jane to remember how her fight with her mum ended up (it didn't end well) and imagined how _this _fight could end the same way: a mother frustrated and angry, leaving behind her upset and furious, but wretched daughter alone in her room. And Jane never wanted that to happen to her in her life. Perhaps planning to move to America was a bad idea.

Without knowing what else to do, Jane wordlessly walked out of Margaret's room, her own eyes moist. To her surprise, Jane met her mum waiting in the hall, Nana Two by her side.

"How long have you been listening," Jane asked, trying to calm herself down.

"Long enough," her mum answered softly.

_Brilliant_, Jane groaned. _She heard the whole thing_. She shook her head, tears dangerously threatening to escape. Before she knew it, Jane was pulled into her mum's warm embrace and held her firmly. Jane wrapped her arms around Wendy as she wept in her mum's arms. Nana Two gently rubbed her head to Jane in affection and comfort.

Wendy and Jane held each other in silence. It was only a minute later when Jane, now finished with her crying and was slowly calming herself, spoke.

"That wasn't where I wanted to go," Jane mumbled, her voice heavy and weak from weeping.

Wendy stood back and, with her withered finger, raised Jane's chin so that their eyes were staring at each other. Jane could almost see her mum's loving and distress look through her eyes, practically blind with dried tears.

"You should get some rest," Wendy quietly said to Jane. "I'll go talk to her."

Jane nodded and pulled from her mother's embrace, making her way to her room. Nana Two followed Jane down the hall, leaving Wendy alone in front of Margaret's bedroom.

******************

Wendy entered her old nursery room to see Margaret, crying on the window seat. Little rubbed her head to Margaret and licked her hand in an attempt to comfort her. However, Margaret showed no sign of noticing Little at all; she just continued to cry and cry. Wendy noticed that her Peter Pan doll was alone on the floor and Margaret's hand was directed to the doll but did not reach it. Little jumped from the window seat and pushed the doll to her, but Margaret's hand hung limply and lifeless against the doll. This sight broke Wendy's heart.

She walked up to Margaret, who showed no sign of hearing her enter. Little looked up to Wendy in her small and miserable eyes. Wendy gave Little a weak smile and a soft pat on Little's head, giving her as much comfort as Wendy could offer.

Wendy turned to her sobbing granddaughter and lay her gentle hand on Margaret's trembling back. Margaret stiffened under Wendy's touch and fell silent. Wendy could hear Margaret's quiet sniffles.

"Margaret," Wendy softly spoke to her. Margaret was immobile for a moment until she rose and wiped her tears from her eyes before facing Wendy. Her eyes were puffy red and her tear stain, on her cheeks, was still visible, even after rubbing them away.

Wendy stared at Margaret's sky blue and stroked her long, brown hair. Both eyes and hair were exactly the same color as Wendy's and Jane's (Margaret's nightdress was also the same style as was theirs, but in a different color), and Wendy was surprised but pleased to see both herself and Jane inside Margaret. However alike she is to her family, Margaret was genuinely different and she was always proud of that. Until problems like the park one came up.

Wendy wordlessly picked up the Peter Pan doll (she still remembered the day she made this for Jane as if it were yesterday) and handed it to Margaret, who silently accepted it and stared deeply at it.

"Your mother never meant to tell you at the last second," Wendy finally said. "She only wants what's best for you because she loves you very much." Margaret didn't respond. Wendy returned to caressing Margaret's hair soothingly. She sat in front of Margaret and felt Little climbing on her lap.

"I know," Margaret spoke at last, her voice quiet and vulnerable from crying. She was still staring at her Peter Pan doll. "But she doesn't understand."

"What doesn't she understand," Wendy asked her.

Margaret paused hesitantly. "We shouldn't leave you here all alone, grandmum. You need us more than we need you."

Wendy knew fully well that this was not true, but did not voice it. Instead, she laid her finger under Margaret's chin and slowly lifted her face. Her eyes were still glassy.

"That's not the only reason why, is there?" Wendy looked straight into Margaret's young and sorrowful eyes, as if seeing her deepest soul.

Margaret sighed and looked away. Her eyes were lifted to the sky, where you could clearly see the second star to the right. Wendy placed her hand on Little, both waiting for her answer.

"I've dreamed of him every single night," Margaret said so quietly, it was a wonder Wendy had heard her. "He would always appear on this window . . . he would hold out his hand to me . . . and spoke to me . . . whispered, 'Come away with me to Neverland . . . Fly away from this place and come to where no one . . . will care . . . of whom you are." She added in a very subtle whisper. She turned to Wendy. "That's why this window's always opened. That's why I can't leave here. He's going to come back. I know he will; I can feel it."

"Who will come," Wendy asked, though she already knew the answer instantly.

Margaret looked down at her doll on her lap. "Peter Pan." She paused before she looked back at Wendy with determination in her eyes. "He's coming, grandmum! He _is_ coming!"

Wendy said nothing as she stared softly at Margaret. She could see so much faith on Peter Pan's return in Margaret and the stubbornness of her refusal to think otherwise. Looking at her, Wendy wondered if Peter Pan will ever come back for her. After all, Margaret has come to the same age as Wendy and Jane when they first met Peter Pan.

Margaret's face fell in reluctant. "Do you think he'll come? It was all a dream anyway," she added, almost defeated.

"Of course he will," Wendy said with no hesitation, her voice filled with faith, just as it once was long ago. "He'll come to this very room and take you to Neverland with him. And no," Wendy added when Margaret opened her mouth to protest. "I'm not saying that to make you feel better. I'm saying that because it's the truth."

"I just want to be here when he comes," Margaret sighed, dropping her eyes back to her doll. "I can't be in America when he does come." She looked up with more willpower than Wendy has ever seen before. "I'm staying here, grandmum. I'm not leaving."

Wendy couldn't help but smiled at her. Margaret stared so hard at Wendy as if preparing to attack anyone who would disagree with her.

Wendy placed a reassuring hand on Margaret's shoulder. "Maybe he'll come tonight."

Margaret shook her head. "That's what I've been telling myself each night. He hasn't shown up on those nights, so what makes you think he'll come this time?"

"I don't,' Wendy admitted. "But if I know him, he'll come soon. Just give him tonight." Wendy gripped her weak hands on Margaret's shoulders. "Don't lose hope on him, Margaret, just because he hasn't shown up yet. If you really believe he will come, then he will come. Just be patient on him."

Margaret nodded, her eyelids unexpectedly sinking low. She raised her hand and covered her mouth to yawn. Wendy noticed this and realized how late it must be.

"Come, Margaret. It's getting late. You should go to bed."

"I'll sleep here," Margaret said sleepily, gesturing the window seat.

"Don't. It's warmer in bed. Come along." Wendy rose up (Little popped off from Wendy's lap) and pulled Margaret up. Too tired to resist or argue, Margaret allowed Wendy to pull her to her bed, holding her Peter Pan doll tight in her hand. She settled in her bed and instantly fell asleep.

Wendy watched her young granddaughter, sleeping so deeply and peaceful, before walking back to the window. Her eyes caught the same second star to the right and remembered vividly of her own adventure with Peter Pan and her two brothers.

Although it happened so long ago, she remembered everything exactly. Her storytelling to her brothers, her flight over the entire city of London, her adventures in Neverland, and her return to her true home. Even the part when she first met Peter Pan. Looking back, she laughed at how ridicules she once was, chattering so much that Peter Pan gave her a very weird look. What a way to make a great, first impression to hero of her stories.

And he was right: she did talk too much. But she was young back then and girls her age always chattered like grasshoppers. Perhaps she could have talked a bit lesser then. That way, she would save the trouble of embarrassing herself.

The last memory of him was when Jane was young and it happened around World War II. Peter Pan, and his fairy Tinker Bell, were floating outside of this very window. Wendy was filled with joy when she saw him again after all these years. But she was a little disappointed because she grew up and could not go with Peter Pan as she did once. He was also disappointed at seeing Wendy grown up. But when he could see how much faith on him she still had, he accepted this. That was the last time Wendy has ever seen him.

Her mind was filled with so many memories of Peter Pan that she began to sing a lullaby she made up for Margaret when she was very young:

"_The Second Star to the Right_

_Shines in the Night for You_

_To Tell You that the Dreams You Plan_

_Really Can Come True."_

She slowly closed the window, making sure to leave it unlocked. Her eyes never left that star in the clear night sky.

"_The Second Star to the Right_

_Shines with the Light that's Rare_

_And if it's Neverland You Need_

_Its Light Will Lead You There."_

She looked back at her old nursery room that has become one of the most precious places in her life. She saw Little tiredly walking to her basket next to the toy trunk and snuggled under the blankets; falling asleep.

Wendy walked up to Margaret and gently pulled the covers over her.

"_Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star_

_So I'll Know Where You Are."_

She sat next to her granddaughter, admiring her sleeping feature, and stroke Margaret's hair and the side of her face with the back of her fingers.

"_Gleaming in the Skies Above_

_Lead Me to the Land I've Dreamed Of."_

Wendy felt her eyes dropping drowsily as she stood and made her way to her chair in the corner of the room. She picked up her cross-stitching from the top of the chair and sat down. She studied her unfinished work, which was an image of a flying Peter Pan and a small, glowing ball as Tinker Bell. She traced the image of Peter Pan with her finger, still deep in thought of her past with him.

"_And When the Journey is Through_

_Each Time We Say Goodnight,"_

Wendy lay her cross-stitching on her lap as she looked back at the window, as if waiting for him. Her eyes were dipping harder and she softly yawned.

"_We'll Thank the Little Star That Shines_

_Second from the Right."_

With those last, soothing, singing words, she closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep, unaware of what is to come on this very night.


	4. Ch3 Come With Me

**Chapter 3:**

**Come With Me**

The night was silent, except for the hussle and bussle of the busy city below. The city of London glowed dazzlingly in the dark. The wind breathed gently into the atmosphere. The spherical moon stood proudly, high into the heavens. Each of the stars hid beneath the clouds, but even they could not hide the brightest of them all in the skies. They all stood still, watching the world go by each hour. One of them was not still. It hurriedly was soaring from the sky and toward one particular house.

The star light stopped in front of the window and looked inside. There, she saw the oh-so-familiar nursery room. The walls were the same and the toys were the same. Oh the sight of this brought many good (and bad) memories of this place. Everything there still remained the same.

But she could see that this room wasn't the same anymore. Now, there was only one bed, inhabited by a sleeping girl.

*_I wonder if that's Jane*._

She could also see an old woman, softly asleep on a chair that moved forward and backward. The old woman looked oddly familiar, but she couldn't place her wing on it. Other than the sleeping girl and the old woman, no one else was there; it was safe to enter.

The fairy flew up to the rooftop and twinkled silently to it. There, a boy appeared from the shadows. He grinned when he saw her and, after she reported what she saw inside, he nodded, congratulating her. As quiet as the silent moon, he sneaked down the roof and slowly floated downward to the window. The window doors were closed, but he knew that they were never locked for him.

He opened the window and looked inside. His fairy was right; the nursery room hadn't changed, as if he last left this place just yesterday. But he didn't know how long it has really been and hoped that nothing else had changed, including Wendy and Jane.

He could see his fairy coming to his side from the corner of his eyes, illuminating the side of his face.

*_Here we are*_, his fairy twinkled in a bell-like voice that only the boy could understand. *_And look who's here*._

She pointed her tiny finger at the two figures in the room. The boy flew slowly inside and closer to the figures. To his disgust, one of them was a very old, grown-up lady, sleeping softly on her strange chair.

Her grayish white hair was held up on her head in a messy bun. Her face and skin showed more wrinkles than a turtle. Even her nightdress was wrinkled from top to bottom. She also wore a light blue shawl tightly around her body, keeping herself warm. What he didn't miss was the old lady's soft smile, making her look a few weeks younger. But she still looked too old for the boy's liking.

He frowned at her but for some reason, he couldn't look away. For some unknown reason, he felt as if he had known her before. But how could he have known an old, wrinkling grown up?

_*Are we here to get Jane, or are you going to continue on staring at her*_, his fairy twinkled impatiently. She couldn't figure out how even an old woman could catch his attention.

"I know Tink, I know!" the boy whispered to his fairy as he finally looked away from the old grown up.

"Is that her?" He was pointing at the girl in bed, the bed blanket almost covering her entire body; her forehead and top head sticking out.

Tinker Bell flew over the girl. *_I'm not sure. I think so*_.

The boy took one last look at the old lady, checking to see if she remained asleep, and made his way to the girl. He kneeled in front of the bed and placed his hand on the girl's shoulder, gently shaking her.

"Jane," he whispered to her. "Jane, wake up. It's me, Peter. Peter Pan, remember?" The girl only stirred, groaning drowsily as she unconsciously pushed the boy's hand off her shoulder.

"Come on Jane, wake up," he tried again. The girl turned away from him, the blanket slipped down a bit. Curiously, the boy took the blanket off of her face, asking Tinker Bell to come closer so that her light could shine over the girl.

The second Peter Pan saw the girl's face clearly, he knew that something was very wrong. This girl looked nothing like Jane at all. He couldn't understand this. He remembered well that Jane had very short hair and proper bangs, a slightly pointed nose, and a very mature appearance on her face. There were no nonsense shown, only strictness and responsibility. But there was still that fun-filled spark that appeared on rare occasions, like when she first became the first Lost Girl and when she flew for the first time.

But this girl didn't have all that on her. This girl was . . . different. She had her flowing hair reach to her mid back. Her bangs' length ended almost over her eyes and was parted to one side over the face. Her nose was small and delicate too.

And her face . . . her face was nothing like he had seen before. Her face was a mixture of Wendy and Jane; motherly and independent. But he also saw exploratory and playfulness there; almost the same as his own, to his revelation. All these things brought wonder to Peter and he couldn't think nor could he look away (much to Tink's displeasure).

But there was one thing that was clear on his mind: "That's not Jane."

Tink took one look at the girl and her mouth shot wide open in surprise, not expecting to see a stranger instead of Jane.

"No, she's not," an aged, but soft voice spoke. Peter and Tink twirled around to see the old woman wide awake, staring at them with a huge and tender smile; her eyes sparkling merrily.

In shock, Peter swiftly flew back up against the wall, away from her. The old lady was awake. When did she wake up? Why hadn't he heard her?

But all that didn't matter. What did matter was that she saw him. He has been discovered. And what's worst: an old and wrinkling grown-up discovered him.

Quickly, he jumped off of the wall and flew to the window, where he, with Tinker Bell right behind him, he would make his escape back into the night. He was close to the window when, suddenly, he was pulled to a stop. He looked back to see, to his terror, the old lady, pulling his arm desperately, her eyes pleading for him to stop.

"Peter, don't leave! Please don't leave!" The old lady begged, her voice quiet enough not to disturb the sleeping girl, but soft enough for Peter to hear her.

Peter struggled to release the old lady's wrinkled hands off of his arm. Tink came to his aid, pushing them off with all her might.

It was after what the old lady said that completely stiffen them. "Peter please! It's me, Wendy! Don't you remember?"

Peter froze in midair and slowly looked down at the grown up woman. This is Wendy? How could this be her? It can't be!

He moved closer to her and studied her face. Of course, all he saw were more wrinkles. But when he looked into her eyes, he saw those soft and motherly eyes that he remembered from so long ago. He knew that those exact eyes could only belong to Wendy Darling herself.

"Wendy?" he spoke breathlessly. He couldn't believe this old lady was Wendy herself. He knew that Wendy chose to grow up, but to grow up into something like this? He could barely even recognize her if it weren't for her eyes. She has become too grown up. But he could see, through her eyes, that it was the same Wendy as the young Wendy and the adult Wendy he had met years ago.

Tinker Bell was going through the same situation as Peter was going. She may not have liked Wendy, but she still had a tiny soft spot for her. And to see Wendy grown up and unrecognizable now. Tink flew up beside Peter to get a better look at Wendy. She still looked like the same old grown up that Tink founded when she first entered the nursery. But the old woman was smiling so happily and her eyes were twinkling, just like the starry sky. Tinker Bell grinned. This was truly Wendy. And she had grown up much more than before they've met.

"Oh Peter!" Wendy whispered in joy. "It's so good to see you again!"

Peter didn't respond, his throat heavy and his eyes piercing on her. He slowly sank to the floor.

Tink flew around Wendy. "And Tinker Bell!" Wendy giggled softly. "It's so good to see you too!"

_She still giggled like that_, Peter thought to himself as he watched her eyes following Tink.

Tink landed on Wendy's palm hand that had been raised up for her. "My," Wendy spoke in awe. "You still look very lovely!" Tink blushed and smugly twirled around, smiling at her.

"Wendy," Peter finally spoke. "You . . . you look . . . old."

Wendy sadly smiled at him. "I am, Peter. I have grown up even more. I'm more than sixty now. I'm truly sorry."

Peter's head bowed in thought for a moment, until he looked up questionably. "Wait . . . if you've grown up . . . then Jane . . ."

"Yes, Peter. Jane, too, has grown up. She had married and bore a child. A daughter." Wendy turned to the sleeping girl on the same bed Wendy and Jane once occupied. "The girl in bed . . . is her daughter."

Peter walked closer to the girl and stared at her. Tinker Bell stayed flying in midair, watching Peter closely.

Jane had grown up. She's grown up now. And now she has a daughter of her own, just like Wendy. He studied the girl and could see the resemblance. She has Jane's chin and ears.

But if Jane was all grown up, then there's no reason to take her back to Neverland. This whole trip to London was a waste of time. He should have known the world would change every time he leaves. Everything here grows up.

If that was true, then everyone he knows here had grown up. And when they grow up, they've changed dramatically. He's seen Wendy grown up, but what about her brothers, John and Michael? He hasn't seen nor heard from them in a very long time. No doubt they've grown up too, but could they have changed into what Wendy had become? And what about Jane and her little brother, the one who was ecstatic when he saw him flying into the night sky? Has he grown up and changed as well? Has Jane changed too? Could this sleeping girl change also when she grows up? Grow up to change?

"All grown up," Peter whispered, suddenly feeling as if all of his youthfulness had sucked out of him, leaving him alone and despair. Why did they all have to grow up and change so much? Why couldn't he have prevented this from happening? It would now be too late to stop this anymore. Sure they've made their choice to stay, but he wished he hadn't given them that choice and just forced them to stay in Neverland forever. Why would they want to stay here at all; Peter just doesn't understand.

He was so lost in his thoughts to notice Tinker Bell flying to his side, also looking gloomy, but only for Peter. He also didn't notice Wendy watching him, her heart heavy with guilt and sorrow, as she walked up to him.

"I'm sorry, Peter," she said warmly as she laid her hand on his shoulder.

Unexpectedly, Peter quickly moved away from Wendy's hand, as if it had burned his shoulder. "Get away from me, you old lady!"

Wendy froze in shock, her eyes in pain and hurt. Tinker Bell gasped, but all he heard was a twinkle. Peter froze too, realizing what he just said. How could he say that to Wendy, even though it's true? He immediately regretted it when he saw Wendy losing color and her eyes teary as she bowed her heard away to hide her eyes.

"Wendy . . ." Peter tried to say, though it was hard to speak with his throat heavy with guilt and remorse. "I . . . I didn't . . ."

Wendy didn't say a word and Peter swore he saw a tear drop from her face. She turned away and exited the room, leaving Peter and Tink alone with the sleeping girl.

Peter stared at the door where Wendy just walked out. He was completely speechless and helpless on what he just did. He didn't mean to say that to Wendy at all. He didn't know why he said it.

He suddenly realized that Wendy has become one of them; one of the grown ups he despised so much. But he didn't want to despise Wendy, just because she grew up. And Jane. He couldn't despise her either, even if she had grown up.

He slowly turned to the sleeping girl, who strangely hadn't awoken yet. He miserably knew that this girl will grow up too and he wasn't sure if he will despise her or not. Because so far, he didn't want to.

His eyes grew moist with tears as he collapsed on the floor in front of the bed. He gathered his legs up and buried his face on his knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

Tinker Bell watched Peter crying, heartbroken. She's never seen him cry like this and it hurt her so deeply. She flew down and landed on Peter's shoulder, smoothing his wet cheeks with her tiny hands in comfort.

None of them noticed the girl opening her eyes at last. She slowly sat up and rubbed her sleepy eyes away. Tink glanced at her and suddenly looked terrified. She pulled Peter's hair, trying to get his attention, although he ignored her, continuing to cry. Before the girl opened her eyes wide, Tink, without any other choice, climbed under Peter's hat and hid.

When the girl opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was a boy, weeping on the floor in front of her. She realized that it was his weeping that woke her up. Taking pity on him, she quietly rose off of her bed and kneeled in front of the boy.

"Boy, why are you crying?" she spoke softly to him.

After hearing a soft and sweet voice, he paused, thinking for a moment it was Wendy who had returned to comfort him. But when he looked up, he saw not Wendy but the sleeping girl who was no longer asleep, but wide awake and in front of him. He yelled in surprise and jumped backward in the air. This action threw the girl off as she tripped on her nightgown and fell back on her bed.

"I'm sorry," she quickly said as she sat up. "I didn't mean to . . ."

But she didn't see the boy. Only the wide open window. Gasping, she raced to the window, only to stop. The night, chilly air was sneaking into her room and she rubbed her arms to warm herself. She ran to her closet, pulled out her night robe, and quickly putted it on as she ran back to the window. She looked all over the streets below, but there was no sign of the boy.

Meanwhile, Peter, who was floating up in the ceiling, watched the girl as she signed in defeat. It looked as if she really wanted to find him. He continued to watch her as she looked up into the sky for a moment until she closed the window doors, making sure it remained unlocked.

Peter knew that this was a perfect time to escape, but something was holding him back. He can't tell why, but it must have something to do with the girl, who was now walking back to her bed.

Without knowing what he was doing, he flew behind her and followed her. Just then, she stopped, as if she heard something. His instinct told him to hide again, but somehow, his body remained where it was. He watched as the girl slowly turned around until her eyes met his.

She gasped in surprise and, like before, Peter flew back up on the ceiling. This time, she saw him, her eyes wide open and her face smiling in shock and in awe.

"You can fly," the girl gasped in amazement. Peter stared at her in interest and uncertainty. He cautiously flew down and glided around the girl as her eyes followed him.

"How are you doing that," she asked him in wonder. "By pixie dust?"

Peter flew back in front of her, bringing his legs in a sitting position (as if sitting on air) and paused before he finally replied. "Oh, I don't use pixie dust. I don't need them."

"Then how are you flying?"

Peter opened his mouth to answer, only to frown; he had no answer to that. To be honest, he never really thought about it. "I don't know. I guess I was born to fly on my own."

The girl nodded acceptably. She soon frowned at him as she leaned in closer, her eyes narrowing him. Puzzled by this strange act, Peter landed on the floor and leaned back a little, feeling uncomfortable by her stare.

"You look . . . very familiar," she murmured mysteriously. "Have we met before?"

"Uh," Peter tried to answer as he stared into her sky blue eyes, which was strangely sending chills down his spine, especially when he and the girl were almost close together. "I-I don't think so."

"Hmmmm." She wrapped her finger around her chin in thought. "Are you sure?"

Before he could answer, a furious barking shook them to attention. They both turned around to see a basket on the other side of the room. There, a small puppy was barking angrily, jumping out of the basket and running after Peter. Peter instantly jumped back to the ceiling as the puppy repeatedly jumped up after him, failing to catch him each time. Upon hearing the noise, Tinker Bell peeked out of Peter's hat, only to hide again after the sight of the puppy. She did not want to be anywhere near it.

"No, Little, no!" the girl ordered the puppy, shushing it loudly. "Quiet, Little! You'll wake up the whole city!" She picked up the mad puppy, who was struggling to escape. She closed the puppy's mouth in an attempt to shut it up, though the puppy growled at Peter, who was now very scared of the puppy.

"Little, no! Calm down! He's safe!" The puppy's growled lessened, but was still struggling. "Little, stop that! He's good, I swear!" She looked up at Peter. "Can you come down, please," she said to him.

Peter stared at her, his eyebrows raised up in disbelief. Why would he come anywhere near that insane animal. But after staring at the girl's eyes, shinning with encouragement, he found himself guardedly lowering himself down to the floor. He made sure he was at least far from the mad puppy.

The girl held out her hand to him. "Give me your hand. Don't worry, I know what I'm doing. Come on," she added when Peter hesitated. Finally, he slowly held out his hand and placed it on the girl's hand, who gripped it. For some reason, his enclosed hand slightly prickled pleasantly.

She gently pulled Peter forward her and her crazy puppy, whose dangerous eyes were still upon him. Peter gulped nervously, but because of the pressure of the girl's hand, he moved forward until he was up about arm's length from the puppy.

The puppy surprised him by moving violently toward him. Peter flinched back, but the girl had his hand in hers and her puppy tight in her arm. She looked as if she had everything under control, which impressed Peter, despite the knowledge of her owning a psycho puppy.

To Peter's complete shock and horror, the girl pulled his hand extremely closer to the puppy's nose. What is she thinking?! He tried pulling his hand away, but the girl had a firm grip on his hand, sticking his fist toward the puppy's nose. Tinker Bell took a risky glance outside the hat. She, again, hid herself after seeing how close Peter was standing toward that insane puppy.

The puppy paused at the sight of Peter's fist and the next Peter knew, the puppy's nose went all over his fist, sniffing along the way, as if detecting something wrong. Before Peter knew it, the puppy stopped. It grew a huge grin in its face and huffed happily, its tongue dangling out of his mouth. He quickly licked Peter's fist, tickling him.

Peter couldn't help but chuckle. Though he was confused. Wasn't this the same puppy that was determined to slash him into pieces? Why is it all of a sudden licking his hand?

At hearing Peter laughing, Tink peered out and drew a bewildered look at the puppy. She was just as puzzled as Peter was. She hid back inside, again. Only this time, it was to avoid getting seen by the girl.

He looked up at the girl questionably. The girl only laughed. She had a very sweet and charming laugh that brought a grin in Peter's lip.

"I think she likes you," the girl giggled, clearly proud (whether proud of herself or himself, Peter couldn't tell). She put the puppy down on the floor and backed away to give Peter and the puppy some space.

The puppy danced around Peter as he continued to stare at the small, but now playful creature. The puppy stopped in front of Peter and stretched back, wagging its little tail, as if expecting Peter to do something.

Clueless on what to do next, he looked up at the girl. "Pet her," she answered his unspoken question.

After giving her an understanding, but unsure, nod, Peter bended down to the puppy to get closer. He carefully reached out his hand and placed it on the puppy's head. The puppy moved its head against Peter's hand lovingly. With that sort of encouragement, Peter softly rubbed the puppy's head.

"He's kinda adorable," Peter remarked.

"She." the girl corrected. "Her name is Little Nana. But I call her Little for short."

"Oh," was all Peter said as he continued to pet this, Little. _The name seems to fit this puppy_, Peter thought to himself.

The girl narrowed Peter in concentration before sitting down on her bed. "I know I've seen you before," she mumbled to herself. She spread her arms around her until her hand stopped. She looked down at it to see a doll. Her eyes shot wide open in discovery and her mouth wide open in shock as she looked up at Peter, then back at her doll. She took the doll and slowly walked back to Peter.

When Peter looked up, he immediately frowned at the girl that was giving him a strange and scary look, as if she came up with the most amazing idea in the whole universe. Once he noticed what she was holding, Peter leaned forward to take a closer look.

It was a small doll that was carefully clutched by the girl. But it wasn't just a doll. After one look, Peter, in complete shock, found out why the girl looked so strangely at him.

The doll looked exactly like him. Only smaller.

"I-Is that m-me?" He raised his slightly shaken finger at the doll. The girl nodded, speechless.

"Y-You're Peter Pan," the girl whispered. Peter didn't seem to pay attention to her sound; his focus was still on the look-alike doll.

"Where d-did you get th-that?" His voice a little shaken.

"My grandmum made if for my mum . . . and my mum gave it to me . . . when I was . . . young . . ." She paused, a look of surprise flashed on her face. It seemed she didn't think she could talk like that, let alone speak at all.

"Oh," Peter said as he looked up to see the girl's wide mouth slowly turn into a huge smile.

"You came," the girl proclaimed breathlessly and joyfully. "You're here! I can't believe it, you're really here! I knew you'd come back, I just knew it! I don't know what to say-" she stopped when she noticed Peter staring at her weirdly. "Oh, I . . . I'm sorry . . . I . . . I didn't mean to . . . um . . . hi, I'm Margaret," she said at last, holding out her hand in greeting.

Peter stared down at her hand. "Oh," the girl, Margaret, said, barely retrieving her hand. "I guess you don't know what a handshake is, huh?"

Peter looked up at Margaret, then down at her hand. He remembered back when Jane was in Neverland. Before she made an attempt to leave Neverland by a raft she created, she shook his hand in farewell. Though, now, he didn't know it was a greeting too.

Not wanting to disappoint her, Peter slowly gripped his hand on Margaret's and shook it.

"Oh," Margaret said, very surprised. "I guess you do." She placed her doll in her night robe pocket and gave him a sweet smile. Peter couldn't help, but return it with his own, charming smile.

Just then, Tinker Bell flew out from under Peter's cap, apparently impatient on what was happening. Margaret gasped at the sight of a fairy. Little barked warningly, until Margaret muttered to Little (subconsciously, of course) that it was all right. Though, Little still watched the fairy suspiciously as Tink flew around Margaret.

Margaret laughed happily. "And you must be Tinker Bell! Oh, I've heard about you too!" Tink, a little wary at this comment, flew up to Margaret's face to examine her. Margaret only smiled at Tink, her eyes twinkling with glee. "My, my grandmum was right: you do look lovely!"

Surprised at this, Tink pointed at herself in question. When Margaret nodded, understanding Tinker Bell's silent question, Tink smiled appreciatively.

Margaret turned to Peter, who was unknowingly staring at her reaction to Tinker Bell the whole time. He snapped back to normal when he realized she started talking to him. "I'm so happy that you both came. But," she frowned. "I was just wondering: why did you come back?"

"Oh, well, at first we came here looking for Jane," Peter said, trying to sound casual. "The Lost Boys missed having her around; she was a lot of fun . . . when she wasn't acting like a grown up," he added, which caused Margaret to laugh. "But when Tink and I got here . . . well," Peter rubbed his neck nervously, not sure how to finish his sentence.

"You found out that she grew up and had me," Margaret finished for him, her voice turning sad. Peter nodded helplessly. "I'm sorry, Peter."

Peter sighed, running his hand through his hair in defeat. "Now what am I gonna tell the boys when I get back?"

Margaret shrugged as she made her way to sit on the window seat. "You could tell them the truth. They'll understand."

"You mean they'll be disappointed," Peter corrected.

Margaret nodded, but her face was soon overcome with complete misery. This grabbed Peter's attention, much to Tinker Bell's sudden dismay.

"What's wrong, Margaret?"

"Nothing," she shook her head. "It's just . . . I'm really glad to have met you before . . ."

"Before what?"

"Before I have to move away tomorrow." She finished in a low voice, but Peter heard her.

"Move away? Move away where? Out of the nursery room?"

"No, Peter. To America."

Peter crossed his eyebrow. "What is 'America'?"

"Well, it's a large country that is . . . very far away from here."

"What?!" Peter yelped, stunned. "Far away?! Why?!"

Margaret shook her head. "Apparently, it will be 'good' for me. Mum told me America could help me get sociable there, with different children there my age. But that's not what I want! Why can't she see that?" She looked up at the sky, where the second star to the right still stood. "She doesn't understand. Why is this so hard for me?" Little hopped up on the window seat and allowed Margaret to instinctively pet her.

She sounded so wretched as her appearance. This brought so much pity into Peter. His heart dropped just by looking at how miserable she was about going to a far off country. He stared at her with a depressing and apologetic expression. His mind was trying to find a way to make her happy again, as she was a minute ago. He wished he could help her. He wished he could prevent her from going to 'America'. He had to do something! But what?

Suddenly, an idea popped up in his head just when Tinker Bell popped up from behind his head. Tink knew that expression Peter now had and instantly flew in front of him, a stubborn look clearly written on her face.

*_No, No, No! Absolutely not! Don't you even THINK about it!_*

"Auh, come on, Tink."

*_No way! There is no way I'm letting you do it!_*

"But Tink, she needs help!"

*_I don't care what she needs, we're not doing it!_*

"What are you two talking about?" Peter and Tink stopped to find out it was Margaret who interrupted them.

*_Don't you dare, Peter*_, Tink twinkled warningly, but Peter ignore her. Instead, he grabbed Margaret's hand and pulled her up, an excited smile printed on his face.

"Margaret," Peter announced. "You are looking at your ticket . . . to Neverland!" He didn't hear Tinker Bell's angry groan. All he heard was Margaret's gasp.

"Are you serious? You're going to take me to Neverland?"

"Absolutely," Peter confidently answered. "You'll be perfect there! And the Lost Boys will immediately accept you; you'll be perfect for them!"

"Oh Peter, I'd love to go to Neverland with you! It's been my dream for a long time!"

"Well, now it's about to come true! All you need to do now is to fly! And by that, you'll need-"

"-Faith, trust, and pixie dust!"

"That's right!"

Tinker Bell's head shot up when she heard "pixie dust". There was no way she was giving her pixie dust to this girl. She quickly flew behind the drapes to hide. Little caught this and barked at the drapes. But Peter and Margaret didn't pay attention to why she was barking. Margaret picked up Little and brought her over to Peter.

"Can Little come along with us? She wants to see Neverland as much as I do."

Peter looked uncertain at Little, who was huffing with her tongue out again. Margaret pulled Little's face up. "Look at her. She really wants to come with us," Margaret spoke in a heartrending, babyish sound. Little's face looked at Peter with her big, sad eyes and her cheerlessly long frown. Little was giving Peter a very depressing pout, begging him to take her with them.

"Oh, alright," Peter said at last. "But Little is your responsibility, got it?"

"Got it!" She cheered along with Little, both so delighted to be going.

"All we need now is Tinker Bell." Peter scanned the whole room before saying, "Uh, where's Tink?"

Little right away barked as she jumped off of Margaret's arms, running after the drape again. Unluckily, Tink chose that moment to peek out, only to be seen. She flew out of the drapes, desperately searching for another hiding place.

"Tink," Peter called out as he flew after her, waving his hat trying to catch her. "Tink, come back!" He chased her all over the room.

Wanting to help, Margaret picked up Little and, right when Tink was flying her way, Margaret threw Little toward Tink. As if on cue, Little growled menacingly at Tinker Bell when Little was quickly closing in. This scared Tink so much that she stopped, allowing Peter the chance to finally trap her in his hat. Margaret ran and safely caught Little before hitting the ground.

"Aha," Peter cheered. "Gotch'ya!"

"Of course, I did nothing," Margaret said, playfully smirking as she pulling Little close to her.

"Ah, you helped a little," Peter said as he took Tinker Bell out of his hat. He held her tight, but gentle in his hand.

"Right," Margaret shook her head, her smirk still remaining.

Peter shook Tink up and down toward his hand repeatedly, releasing pixie dusts from her. Soon, his palm was filled with sparkling pixie dust. Margaret and Little stared at it with amazement.

"Alright, who's first?" Peter held out his hand covered pixie dusts. In response, Margaret held out Little. Accepting Margaret's answer, Peter poured pixie dusts over Little.

Little's small body began to glitter like a sun beam. Little slightly sneezed and again she sneezed, until Little was floating above Margaret's arms. Margaret stared at Little in astonishment. Little, even more astonished than her owner, wiggled her arms and legs in midair. Little tried dog paddling and slowly moved around the room. Little yapped in excitement as she flew faster.

Margaret couldn't stop watching Little; she was smiling so wide, she could have hurt her cheeks. She didn't see Peter shaking Tink again to gather more pixie dusts. When he had enough, he released Tink, who rapidly flew over to the drawer, furious at being used again.

Peter sneaked behind Margaret and tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around to face Peter. He held out his hand toward her and lightly blew the pixie dust toward her. She blinked to avoid getting them getting on her eyes and looked back at Peter. Grinning arrogantly, he took her hands in his and pulled her up above ground.

Before long, Margaret was flying along with Peter. However, her eyes were still on Peter. He pointed his eyes down below and Margaret looked down.

She gasped, tightening her hands on Peter's. But he unclasped their hands and moved an inch away.

Margaret was flying all by herself.

She cautiously moved around the room and soon got the hang of it. She was flying alongside Little, laughing with pure happiness. Peter watched them playing in the air, amused and happy to have helped Margaret to smile and laugh again.

Tinker Bell sat down on the drawer and moved away from their direction, heatedly angry at them. She had to cover her ears to completely block out their annoying sound.

Later, when Margaret glanced at Peter, she joyfully flew to him. Catching him by surprise, Margaret hugged him tight. No girl had ever hugged him like that before (well, except Jane, but it was brief).

"Thank you so much," Margaret mumbled. Peter didn't know what else to do or say. His mind was blank at the feeling of Margaret's strangely comfortable embrace. Before Margaret unwrapped her arms and flew back to Little, she gave him a kiss on his cheek.

It was as if time stopped itself. As if everything became so unreal. Peter's mind was now so blank, he could barely see the room before him. He couldn't move his body, except his hand, which rose to his cheek that had recently been occupied by Margaret's kiss. It was still warm. He could still feel her lips there, sweetly kissing it in gratitude. No one had ever done that in his whole life. Not even Tinker Bell had done the same. He didn't know why Margaret did that, but it felt . . . oddly nice.

Peter was so distracted by the kiss that he didn't see Wendy entering back into the room. Not until Margaret announced her arrival.

"Grandmum," Margaret called as she flew up to Wendy, who was so shocked to see her own granddaughter flying right before her eyes. "Grandmum, look! I'm flying! I'm really flying! And so is Little; she's flying too!" She directed Wendy Little, who was making her own tricks in the air, like bouncing off the walls and spinning sideways.

"Grandmum," Margaret guided Wendy back to her. "It was all Peter's doing! He's come back! Peter Pan has come back, just like I told you!" She turned to Peter, who, at the last minute, snapped back in reality to see Wendy. Peter was honestly surprise to see she had returned. He didn't know what to expect from Wendy, after seeing a sight like this, at an old age like that. But all Wendy did was giving Peter a sad smile.

"I guess you were right," Wendy said to Margaret, but her eyes were on Peter. "He has come back."

"And he's taking me and Little to Neverland!" Margaret added.

Wendy looked between Margaret and Peter, her face unreadable. "Is he now. Just like in your dreams?"

Margaret nodded. "Just like in my dreams."

Wendy took a moment to stare at Margaret, Peter, then back to Margaret. Finally, she said, "Well, be sure to enjoy yourself there, while you still can."

Margaret nodded, her smile widen. She and Wendy embraced each other. When they released each other, Margaret was wearing a frown. "What about my mum?"

"Don't you worry, I'll be sure to tell her. She'll understand, I know she will."

Margaret nodded uncertainly as she gave Wendy a warm kiss on her cheek. This sight puzzled Peter. _Does she kiss everyone's cheek?_

"Peter," Wendy called out to him. "May I speak to you in private?"

Peter reluctantly nodded. Margaret flew past him, to the window, as he flew to Wendy, on the other side of the room. Peter wasn't sure if Wendy was still heartbroken by what he said to her earlier.

"Uh . . . Wendy? I . . . what I said . . . before . . . I-"

"Don't worry, Peter. It is forgiven," Wendy said, once again giving him a sad smile. "You were right: I am old. I've had accepted that long ago and I should have accepted it before. But now, I do"

Peter did not expect Wendy to forgive him, let alone apologize like that.

"Peter," Wendy said softly. "I won't stop you from taking Margaret to Neverland. But what I'm asking you is to stay with her at all times." She gently laid her hand on Peter's arm. "I want you to help and protect her from what she will face there. I don't want anything to happen to her. I know she can take care of herself. But I'm asking you to not let anything horrible happen to her. Please, Peter! Please do this for me! Promise me you'll protect her! Please promise me!"

Wendy was pleading him through her eyes, on which Peter couldn't look away. He wasn't sure if he could make a promise like that to her. However, no matter how old Wendy was or becoming, she was still the same Wendy he remembered and he couldn't refuse to an old, dear friend like her.

"I promise, Wendy. I won't let anything happen to her. You have my word."

Wendy's face relaxed, showing a relief and believing smile. Peter looked back at the window to see Margaret watching him, waiting for him, with Little by her side.

"Go," Wendy said to him. Peter looked at Wendy for a moment, then nodded and made his way to Margaret.

"Come on, Tink," Peter called out to Tinker Bell. Although she was trying to avoid hearing Margaret and Little, she could never avoid Peter. When she turned around to see not only Peter, but also Margaret and Little ready to go, Tink huffed in frustration. She could never get Peter to listen to her. With no other choices, Tink rapidly flew out the window first.

"You ready," Peter asked, returning his attention to Margaret. She nodded, clutching Little.

With that, Peter pushed the window wide open. "Then here we go!"

Peter soared out into the night, hearing Little barking along the way. He turned around, only to stop in midair. Margaret hadn't left the window. She had a frightened and uncertain look on her face. Little was already outside, flying over the roofs of the houses. But Peter's main concern and worry was on Margaret.

Before he went back to fetch her, Margaret looked back inside, perhaps at Wendy, then, taking a deep breath, closed her eyes, and wearing a strong, determined expression on her face, she jumped out of the window and slowly rose up into the air. Relieved to see Margaret flying out of the window, Peter flew to her and grabbed her hand as he pulled her deep into the sky.

*******************************************************************************************************

Wendy walked up to the window to watch Peter, Margaret, Tinker Bell, and Little fly away into the night sky. Wendy was happy for Margaret to finally experience the adventure she and Jane once had. She only hoped for her granddaughter's safety.

"Mum?" a voice called from behind. Wendy turned to see Jane, wrapped in her night robe, entering the room. "Mother, I heard noises; what's going on?" She looked over at Margaret's empty bed, then looked back at Wendy with a frightened look. "Where's Margaret?" She looked at Little's basket and turned back with a more frightened look. "And Little? Where are they?"

Wendy motioned Jane to come closer to the window. "It's all right, Jane. Margaret and Little are on their way to Neverland."

Jane stood by the window and watched as the dots that belonged to the four flyers disappear. "You mean . . . he came back?"

"Yes, Jane," Wendy smiled warmly at the stars above. "He has."

They took a moment to stare at the same, second star to the right in the sky.

"Will she be alright?" Jane hesitantly asked. "I mean, she will . . . right?"

"Peter will make sure she is unharmed," Wendy assured Jane, her voice filled with faith in Peter. "I know he will."

*******************************************************************************************************

Margaret had never felt so much ecstasy in her entire life.

Even before she opened her eyes, she could straight away feel the cool wind, blowing not just her face, but her whole body. This brought a chill through her veins. Her hair, night gown and robe were dancing behind her and she felt so feathery. This was the experience she had always dreamed about. And now this was really happening to her. No dream, but reality.

When she opened her eyes, the first thought that came to her was how high they were. They were so high over the whole city that she tightened her hand on Peter's. However, Peter released his hand from her and flew faster. Margaret tried catching up to him, but gave up when she took another glance at the city below.

She had never seen London from this view before, and it was exhilarating. She could see bright illuminations, shining on streets, in windows of each buildings, even on cars that passes down the roads.

Little's barking caught her attention as she looked up to see Little swimming the air. With another bark, Little submerged down into the city. Filled with excitement and adventure, Margaret followed her puppy.

Once they were deep in the city, they raced through the streets, careful to avoid collapsing into anything. A few people (mostly the children) append to be the lucky ones to see them pass by. Grinning with mischievous, Margaret waved at them as she and Little disappeared around the corner. Soon, Peter came to join them and he and Margaret laughed with enjoyment as they and Little finally shot out of the city streets. Tinker Bell sulkily followed along, wearing an irritable face along the way.

They next flew over River Thames, where Margaret poked her finger in the river and skate it across the water, creating a trail along the way. Little stared at the waters and shoved her tongue in it as she flew across, also creating a trail. Peter hovered above Margaret and Little. Tinker Bell stopped flying when she saw her reflection. She admired herself for a second until she saw her bottom. Suddenly, she shot up just in time to avoid a fish, attempting to eat her.

They flew through the Tower Bridge and up to the sky. To Margaret's astonishment, she found herself staring up at Big Ben. Thrill developed inside her as she soared up around Big Ben. She was fortunate the clock tower did not chime in front of her; it was only 11:20.

Soon, she reached to the very top of the tower and took a look over the whole city of London. It looked like a never-ending sea of lights from where she could see. The whole sight was truly spectacular. Maybe even more than that. She wondered if her mum and grandmum had experienced the same feeling she was having when they flew over London. She felt Little flying up to her side, barking out as loud as she could. She was rewarded with faint barkings in returned. Peter appeared beside Margaret, winning a daring smile and a satisfying twinkle on his eyes that Margaret couldn't ignore. Tinker Bell flew up to Peter, looking a bit tired and was puffing for air, as if flying more than she had hoped.

Peter pointed at the star in the sky that was closer than it was from the window.

"There it is, Margaret! Second to the right-"

"And straight on till morning!"

After Margaret nodded, ready to go, Peter took Margaret's hand and Margaret took Little's small paw. With a puff of annoyance, Tinker Bell speedily flew first, leaving behind trails of pixie dusts. Peter carried Margaret and Little straight up to the sky as they soared over other stars and clouds. Margaret could see the city shrinking smaller and smaller as they flew higher and higher.

The designated star was fast approaching and Margaret couldn't stop the pure anticipation that was building inside of her. Yet again, she didn't want to.


	5. Ch4 The Mockery of Captain Hook

**Chapter 4**

**The Mockery of Captain Hook**

"_Ohh, a pirate's life is a wonderful life  
A-rovin' over the sea  
Give me a career  
As a buccaneer  
It's the life of a pirate for me  
Ohh, the life of a pirate for me"_

The morning sun rose over the realm of Neverland, and only the sound of singing pirates welcomed it.

Pirates on the shores of Pirate Cove were scattered all over their territory. Some went fishing for scrumptious fishes and hunting for appetizing lobsters for future suppers. Others went out on rafts and drifted out into the waters, fishing for chunks of their destroyed ship (barely escaping the vicious octopus, waiting for a morning snack) and retrieving them to their Fort to try to rebuild what wreckages they have left of their beloved ship.

Fort Buccaneer was now their only home to live in. When their ship sank to the bottom of the ocean, pirates were forced to build a new settlement for them out of what they found in the jungles: bamboos and leaves. A few of the pirates were left guarding the Fort, marching around their stronghold, watching for trespassers. Inside the fortress, only four, small huts stood, around a large space. One was the pirates' own quarters, one was the mess hall with an outside kitchen behind it, the other was a small prison for captives (right now, their prison was empty), and lastly, there was the Captain's cabin.

Within the cabin, the infamous Captain Hook, the leader of the pirates, was pacing around his desk, deep in thought. He puffed on his special, double cigars, leaving behind him trails of smoke. He paced for the whole morning and his mind was so focused, it was like he was in his own world. He was thinking hard, forming the perfect plan. A plan that will permit him to finally destroy his worst nemeses: Peter Pan.

Just then, his first mate, Mr. Smee, entered the cabin, carrying a tray of food. Hook didn't bother to hide his groan. He hated anyone who interrupts him and Smee should know that. Hook gave Smee a nasty glare, but Smee was, as always, happily oblivious to his Captain's annoyance, ignoring his earlier groan.

"Good morning, captain," Smee greeted in a cheerful voice. It seemed that, of all the pirates, Smee was the only one who was optimistic the whole time. He would encourage the pirates to keep working and would attempt to cheer his Captain in any way. However, the pirates, and even Captain Hook himself, were so irritated by this that they were greatly tempted to feed Smee to the octopus. Unfortunately, if there would be no Smee, there would be no first mate. And none of the pirates wanted to take that position. So, they were left to be tormented by Smee. Another torture to live with in this situation.

"I've brought you your breakfast," Smee sang as he placed the tray on Hook's small desk. The tray contained a cooked fish and a boiled egg.

"Not now, Smee," Hook said sharply. "Can't you see I'm busy?!"

"Sorry, Captain," Smee apologized, his voice too jolly for Hook's taste. "I just wanted to make sure you have gotten a good meal. Everyone needs a good meal. Especially through these hard times. But you know what? Maybe fate marooned us here for a reason. A very good reason, I hope."

Smee then went into one of his chatter that would take up to about an hour or more to finish . . . again. But Hook was already ignoring him, falling back to thinking of a brilliant plan to crush Peter Pan, avenging for all of the times Peter Pan had stolen and humiliated Hook. He still hadn't forgotten what the boy did to his left hand, having Hook replace it with a hook. He vowed not to give up until he had that wretched boy on his feet, weak and helpless, as Hook finally vanquished Peter Pan once and for all.

"Hmmmm," Hook pondered, resting his hook carefully on his chin. "How can I get Peter Pan defenseless enough for me to finally kill him?"

"-I know how you like your deviled egg, Captain," Smee continued his babble, ending up talking about Hook's breakfast. He held up a small knife, from the tray, and picked up the egg, placing the sharp end of the knife against it. "Now remember: the easiest ways to crack a shell like this is to find its weakness." He demonstrated by tapping the knife against the egg until the shell cracked. "Only its weakness can help you get the job well done. And next, you must-"

Hook's fist slammed violently on the desk, vibrating the tray. Smee was caught off guard and nearly dropped the egg, though he missed the knife.

"SMEE, STOP YOUR NUISANCE BLABBERING!" Hook bellowed, fastening his hook on Smee's shirt, shaking Smee in every word he said. "I DON"T CARE ABOUT THAT CURSED EGG OR ANYTHING! I WANT YOU OUT OF MY CABIN BEFORE I . . ." He stopped in midsentence, a sudden thought occurring to him. "Wait, what did you just say?"

"Oh, um," Smee said rather quickly, attempting to compose himself from Hook's earlier rage. "I, uh, said, 'And next, you must-'"

"No, no, no, before that. What did you JUST say? About that stupid egg?" Hook shook Smee hard, trying to make him remember.

"Oh yes," Smee exclaimed. "Well, I said, 'Only its weakness can help you get the job well done'."

"Only its weakness can help you get the job well done," Hook repeated to himself. "THAT'S IT!" Hook abruptly shouted at full volume, unknowingly hitting Smee hard against his desk. This caused the tray to slip off the desk.

"That's how I'll defeat Peter Pan!" Hook started pacing around his desk again, only faster, dragging Smee with him. Smee was being pulled over the floor, carefully clutching the egg, while having himself continuously bumped against the desk.

"That's how I'll defeat him! A weakness! Everyone has a one! Right, Smee?"

Hook stopped to look at Smee expectantly, ignoring Smee's situation. After another past bump against the desk, Smee could only say, "Uh . . ."

"Of course, they do!" Hook continued, returning to his pace, much to Smee's distress. "And if everyone has a weakness, then Peter Pan must have one too! If I can only find out what that weakness could be, I could use it against him! And then, I'll have him right where I want him!" He stopped again and pulled his hook back to his chin in thought, still unaware of it remaining attached to Smee's shirt. "But what could his weakness be?"

"Uh, Captain?" Smee meekly spoke to Hook. Hook looked down and stared at Smee, who laughed nervously. His face was about one foot apart from Hook's face. "Um, could you please . . . let me go?"

Hook, staring with a blank expression, wordlessly released Smee, leaving behind a small hole on Smee's shirt.

"Oh, thank you, Captain!" Smee smiled as he smoothed his shirt and inspected the egg, to see if it was in one piece. He turned around and took one step forward, planning on retrieving the tray, until he tripped over his own feet. The egg soared out of his hand and cracked hard on the floor into a million pieces. Smee groaned to himself.

"Smee," Hook called, paying no attention to his first mate's disappointed look. "Stop fooling around! We need to devise a plan to find out what Peter Pan's weakness is!" As he said that, he walked over the ruined egg pieces, crunching them under his boots into more pieces, as Smee watched this in misery.

"Well, uh," Smee tried to speak as he started picking up the egg pieces. "How 'bout those Lost Boys?"

"No," Hook responded. "They won't do. I need a weakness that will be sure to crush Peter Pan. Those boys of his won't do, I'm sure of it."

"Well," Smee picked up the tray and dropped the egg pieces on it. "What about his fairy?"

Hook thought for a moment. "That might work. But just to be safe, I want all men spying on Peter Pan and report to me of his interests and so forward. Anything I can use against him."

"Uh, Captain? We already have spies spying on Peter Pan," Smee reminded Hook as he poured the egg pieces into the bamboo-made basket next to the desk. "Our last report said that he and his fairy left Neverland last night and have soon yet to arrive."

"Very well then." Hook snapped his finger and Smee, as if in command, fetched Hook's jacket and hat and put them on Hook. "Call all men into Fort Buccaneer for a meeting immediately."

"Aye, Aye, Captain!" Smee saluted as he followed Hook out the cabin.

******

"Wow," Margaret whispered in awe at the sight of the most beautiful island she had ever seen.

They had just traveled through the second star to the right and have landed on a cloud, overlooking Neverland below.

Neverland was everything her grandmum had described in her stories. From the cloud, the island looked small, but Margaret could imagine it even larger up close. She could see the majestic Never Peaks and other tall mountains there, covering most of the island. There was also the lovely Mermaid Lagoon and the peaceful Indian Village. And there, on Pirate Cove, was, strangely, a bamboo-made fort.

"I knew you'd love it here," Peter Pan said proudly, standing beside Margaret. Little was still floating in midair, studying Neverland with her small, beady eyes. Tinker Bell just flew behind them, sulking.

"This is so amazing!" Margaret turned to Peter and pecked him on the cheek in gratitude. "I can never thank you enough."

She quickly looked away to hide her slight blush on her cheeks that had just appeared, not noticing Peter's dazed look as he touched his kissed cheek again.

"Uh . . . it was nothing," Peter said, trying to sound normal. Neither of them noticed Tinker Bell' eyes popping after Margaret kissed Peter on the cheek. She was now shooting ominous daggers at the back of Margaret's head. Little was oblivious to everything that just happened.

Margaret stared at the island for a few moments until something clicked in her mind.

"Uh, Peter?" She turned back to him. "Isn't there suppose to be a pirate ship down there?" She pointed down at Pirate Cove.

"There _was _a pirate ship down there," he smirked. "You see, it sank into the ocean and destroyed itself later when Jane was here."

"Oh yeah," Margaret remembered. "Mum told me about that. You mean the pirates still haven't gotten their ship back?"

"Nope."

Peter suddenly grew a mischievous grin on is face. Margaret couldn't help, but smile shyly for unknown reasons. She never remembered smiling like that to a boy before.

"Hey," Peter lowered his voice sneakily at her. "You wanna see something really funny?"

Margaret nodded eagerly.

"Then follow me." Before Margaret knew it, Peter jumped off of the cloud and flew down to Neverland. Filled with excitement and daring, Margaret quickly followed him, bringing Little along with her. Tinker Bell stayed behind.

Peter led them quietly over the trees, surrounding the Fort. Peter directed them to one of the trees that were overlooking the Fort. Peter hid in it and Margaret and Little followed.

There, inside the fort, were numerous pirates, all gathered together in the center area of the Fort.

Peter turned to Margaret and placed his finger on his lip, meaning for her to stay silent. Margaret nodded understandably, then turned to Little to do the same. Little's response was nodding her head eagerly, her tongue dangling out and puffing softly.

It look like they were all waiting for something to happen because later, they instantly silenced when their attention was drawn to a small, plumped pirate (Margaret assumed it was Mr. Smee) walking up front, carrying a bookstand and a foot stool. He sat them both before the pirates and then stepped on the foot stool. Because he was short and the bookstand was blocking his head, he stood on his tip toes. Mr. Smee cleared his voice quite loudly and obnoxiously, not knowing he had already caught the pirates' attention and only irritated them more. Margaret couldn't help but giggled.

"My fellow pirates," he announced. "It gives me great pleasure to introduce our very own captain, the notorious pirate of the seven seas, the nastiest man that ever walked this land, the most evilest person you will ever meet in your life, the-"

"Ah, just get on wit' it, ya fat bilgerat," an impatient pirate shouted from the crowd.

Mr. Smee flinched at the sudden outburst, but soon composed himself, clearing his voice again. Only louder and more confident.

"I present," Mr. Smee continued. "Captain James Hook!"

Mr. Smee cheered as he walked away, holding out his arms to present the Captain as the Captain appeared and stepped on the footstool, glaring at Mr. Smee for his long introduction.

From the tree, Margaret finally caught a glimpse of Captain Hook, the evil buccaneer that her mum and grandmum had encountered before, and the villain in all of Peter Pan stories.

Captain Hook was exactly like the descriptions her mum and grandmum had told her. He wore fancy clothes and a large hat with a big, puffy feather resting on it. His huge moustache stuck out of his face sophistically and properly. He wore a proud smirk on his long chin and a wicked spark on his bagged eyes. His dark, wavy hair lay over his shoulder and a big nose to go with a codfish head like his. His sword lay on his left side of his waist, the half end of it hidden under his coat. The one thing that stood out the most was the reason of his name: his hook. His hook took the place of his left hand, having his real hand chopped off by Peter Pan himself. His hook was silver and so sharp, it could stab right through the heart. Margaret remembered all of what this Captain Hook had done during to mum and grandmum during their adventures here.

Margaret could see that he looked terrifying, but she refused to fear him.

Mr. Smee was still cheering, even though he was the only one who _was _cheering. Captain Hook held his hand up, silencing Mr. Smee.

Peter unexpectedly tapped Margaret's shoulder and, once Margaret looked at him, he pointed down at a tree limb they were currently crouching on, and mouthed, 'Wait here.'

'Why,' Margaret mouthed back. Peter's only answer was a sly smirk and a charming wink. Before she knew it, Peter sneaked out of the tree and quietly flew beside the wall of the Fort. Margaret looked on, immediately knowing what Peter was planning on doing: humiliating Captain Hook.

"All right, mates," Captain Hook called to the pirates. "I want to hear the details for this morning! What's your report, Sharp-tooth Larry?"

A large pirate with a dagger carried in his mouth stepped forward. He took out the dagger to speak properly. "We caugh' about ten fishes an' three lobsters this mornin'. O' course, all th' biggest an' fattest ones goes straigh' t' ye, captain," he grumbled those last words.

Peter peeked over the wall. Margaret continued to watch, restraining Little from flying off. It was only a matter of time before Peter will surprise all those unsuspecting pirates. She could hardly wait.

"Good," Captain Hook said, satisfied. "And you, Mr. Starkey?"

A pirate with a stubble chin and an earring on one side stepped forward. "We found a wee more boards o' our ship, but 't's still nay enough fer us t' rebuild 't."

"Curses," Captain Hook muttered angrily.

Margaret glanced back at Peter, who was still peeking over the wall. _What is he waiting for?_

"How about you, Red Handed Jack?"

A bald pirate with an eye patch and a scar on his right cheek stepped forward. "We haven' spotted Pan or his fairy. They must've nay returned yet."

Margaret giggled under breath. Boy, were they completely wrong on that. Peter grinned as he shook his head. He must have been thinking the same thing Margaret was thinking right now: those dumb pirates.

"Good," Captain Hook said, although he searched the sky cautiously. "Then we will continue on with this classified conference."

At that moment, Peter smoothly sneaked next to the wall until he came to a wall that was facing Captain Hook. He peeked over the wall once again.

"Now, I have something to discuss with you mates that will satisfy all of us," Captain Hook announced. "And by 'all of us', I can guarantee I meant me!"

All the pirates either rolled their eyes annoyingly or nodding in agreement. Mr. Smee was nodding enthusiastically. Perhaps a bit more than needed. It was a wonder his head stayed in place from all that nodding.

"You see, mates, I have just discovered that-" Captain Hook suddenly stopped in midsentence when a loud, ticking noise filled the air. Puzzled, Margaret looked everywhere, trying to find where the ticking sound was coming from. She looked back at Peter, who had his mouth wide open, his hands surrounding his lips. She realized that it was him who was making those noises.

At first, Margaret wasn't sure why Peter was making a loud, ticking noise, like an old-fashion ticking clock. But it wasn't after spotting Captain Hook's sudden pale face that she remembered one thing: according to her grandmum's stories, Captain Hook was deathly afraid of a crocodile that gave out a distinctive and a dead-giveaway ticking sound.

Captain Hook looked around frantically, his eyes filled with pure fear. All the pirates searched everywhere, not of fear like their Captain, but in bafflement, wondering where the noise was coming from. Mr. Smee too looked everywhere, only in anxiety; he glanced back at Captain Hook even more anxious.

Peter's ticking voice grew louder, and, from where Margaret could see, Captain Hook's face grew paler.

"EVERYBODY SEARCH THE FORT!" Captain Hook shrieked. The pirates were all caught off guard for a few seconds before they scurried to different directions.

"HIDE ME, SMEE! HIDE ME!" Captain Hook jumped on Mr. Smee, trying to hide himself under his hat and jacket. Mr. Smee struggled to carry Captain Hook and, because Captain Hook was blocking his eyesight, Mr. Smee walked around blindly and hurriedly, continuously changing directions and nearly missed objects and running pirates on the way.

Margaret covered her mouth to prevent any pirates from hearing her laughing so hard. Now this was the sight she would enjoy watching over and over again. She kept staring at Captain Hook's expression, which was so hilarious, Margaret swear she was going to die laughing. Peter was also covering his mouth, laughing just as hard as Margaret was. However, he had to fly around the Fort to avoid being seen from searching pirates.

Margaret suddenly had this intense feeling of wanting to join in the fun. But what could she do? She couldn't make very convincing voices as Peter could. She had to think of something cleverer.

Margaret looked around the trees and spotted a few vines and coconuts. _I wonder._

She turned to Little, who had her tail wagging mad. Margaret earlier had to trap Little's mouth close to prevent her from barking and giving them away. "Little," Margaret murmured to her puppy. Little turned her small head to her. "I need you to stay silent and to stay here." She pointed down on the tree limb. "Can you do that? Stay-here and stay-quiet, okay?" Little nodded and was about to bark, but shut her mouth closed. "Good girl." Margaret pecked Little's head before she silently flew off the tree.

Margaret gathered as many vines as she could and tested them to see if they were strong and flexible enough. Surprisingly, they all were. She attached the vines together into a large sling and tied each end to tree limbs that were far apart. Then, she gathered a few coconuts and placed them on the vine sling.

Peter stopped when he saw what Margaret was doing and flew to her. "What are you doing?"

"Just watch," Margaret said as she pulled the coconut filled vine sling as far as she could go and, without warning, released it. The coconuts flew out of the vine sling and over the Fort. Soon, all the coconuts fell down inside the Fort, some crashing down on all the huts and others landing hard on pirates' head, knocking them down.

"Oh, it's raining coconuts!" Mr. Smee exclaimed, peeking his head out from behind Captain Hook. "What an interesting season we have today!"

"WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!" Captain Hook screamed, jumping off and picking up Mr. Smee, suspending his first mate over his head so Captain Hook could use him as his umbrella. "WE'RE UNDER ATTACK! QUICKLY, LOAD YOUR WEAPONS! HURRY UP, YA DENSE SLOTHS!"

"Oh, uh, load your weapons," Mr. Smee called out from atop of Captain Hook's head. "We're under attack!"

Peter and Margaret watched everything from over the wall as they held their hands tighter to their mouth, unable to stop laughing.

"May I give it a try," Peter later asked in playfully.

"It's all yours," Margaret replied happily.

"Then, 'load your weapons'," Peter repeated Captain Hook's command mockingly.

"Aye, aye, sir," Margaret teasingly saluted and then loaded the sling with more coconuts. Peter grabbed the vine sling and pulled it back further until his foot was almost close to the ground.

"FIRE," Margaret yelled and Peter instantly released the sling. They both watch all the coconuts fling out and, just as the earlier ones did, fell down inside the Fort, creating more chaos.

All of the pirates had their weapons out, but they weren't prepared for another load of coconuts landing on them. They screamed as they got hit by coconuts and a few fell down, out cold. Captain Hook screamed too as he threw Mr. Smee away and ducked under a collapsed table, shivering in fear.

Unable to hold it anymore, Peter and Margaret burst out laughing out loud, their hands holding their stomach to ease the pain a little. At the sound of their contagious laughter, Little couldn't stay silent anymore and barked out in happiness.

All of pirates paused at the sound of children laughing and a dog barking. Captain Hook peeked out from under the table and listened to the voices. Suddenly, his pale, frightened face slowly turned into burning, raging face. He recognized one of those voices.

"PETER PAN!?!"

Peter heard Captain Hook's screech and, as if called for, he flew up until he was over the inside Fort, where everyone could see him now.

"You called, Hook?"

"YOU'RE HERE?" Captain Hook turned sharply to Red Handed Jack. "YOU SAID HE WAS STILL GONE!"

"Well, obviously, I'm not. You know," Peter lazily flew around, as if to intimidate them. "You and your pirate friends are quite entertaining. Especially the way you all reacted from a sound or a small coconut shower. Although you, Captain, have the best reaction of all!" Captain Hook growled in fury. "Maybe we should do this more often. Whatya think, Hook?"

"MARK MY WORDS, PETER PAN! I AM GOING TO DESTROY YOU! AND WHEN I DO, I'LL BE TAKING THE PLEASURE OF KILLING YOU WITH MY OWN HOOK!" He violently shoved his hook forward, attempting to scare Peter.

"Ha, good luck with that! We all know that's never gonna happen! Right, Margaret?"

Margaret flew up beside Peter, revealing herself, and Little following behind her. "Well, he first has to get over his fears in order to get smarter and catch you. But I'm not seeing THAT fear ever going away!"

Peter and Margaret both laughed at her comment. Captain Hook was staring at Margaret and Little in surprise and interest. He's never seen them before. His eyes stared longer at Margaret as if trying to recognize her outward appearance.

Peter slipped out his ticking voice, causing Captain Hook to flinch in fear. Margaret and Peter laughed again at Captain Hook as they flew away.

"See ya later, codfish!" Peter called back. The last they heard from Captain Hook was a furious scream, "PETER PAAAAAAAN!"

Peter and Margaret again burst out laughing while flying away from the Fort. They laughed so hard that they fell down on the ground, unable to fly while laughing at the same time. But they didn't mind nor cared. They just continued laughing.

"Oh my . . . oh my . . . oh . . ." Margaret tried to speak, but couldn't stop laughing.

"Did you . . . see the looks . . . on that codfish's face?!" Peter cried out, trying to talk through his laugh.

"Before . . . or . . . after the . . . coconuts!"

"Both!"

"Oh, yeah!"

"What a . . . baby!"

"I know . . . 'HELP ME, SMEE! HELP ME'!" Margaret mimicked Captain Hook dramatically, causing both of them to laugh even harder.

Little finally caught up with them and barked gleefully, landing on the ground and running around them in excitement.

Eventually, Peter and Margaret calmed down, wiping away their tears of humor. Margaret watched amusingly at Little, who was skipping around, puffing with her tongue out and wagging her tail. Margaret looked back at Peter, who was giving her a strange look.

"What," she asked, smiling.

"You know," Peter began. "You're a lot different than Wendy or Jane."

"Why's that," Margaret questioned curiously.

"You're a lot more fun than they were."

Margaret was taken aback. She quickly turned her face away from Peter to hide her blushing pink cheeks. She shyly looked back and, seeing Peter smiling at her, she smiled back. Without thinking, she kissed him on the same cheek again and, after Peter gave out a daze-like stare for only three seconds, he grinned sheepishly at her.


	6. Ch5 Tink's Revenge

**Chapter 5**

**Tink's Revenge**

"_You're a lot more fun than they were."_

Tinker Bell was livid. No, she was more than livid. She was burning with pure and intense fury.

After a moment to cool down her anger, Tink flew down to Neverland to join Peter in the fun. But when she arrived, what she encountered was not Peter, or that ugly girl he had brought along from London, but a destroyed pirate fort; all the huts were populated by holes, the ground was infested with coconuts, and the pirates were groaning in pain and retrieving each other. She also saw Smee calmly escorting a furious Captain Hook to his cabin.

Tinker Bell was speechless and hurt. Peter already started the fun without her! And at once, she began to get annoyed. Peter was in all that excitement with that . . . jacka*s instead of herself!

With tightened fists and gnashing irritably, Tink zoomed off in search of the two. She had just found them when she heard Peter say those words, his charming eyes on . . . that girl!

Tink hid behind the leaves, spying on them. She watched them stare at each other and that girl turned away, her cheeks bright, rosy red.

It wasn't until that girl kissed Peter on his cheek that had drove Tink into insane rage. Her eyes saw nothing but fiery red; her mind filled with visions of that cow getting tortured to death, her screams in terrible pain reaching to her anticipating ears.

Her whole skin body altered into burning red (she completely burned the leaves she was hiding behind). It was so clear on her mind: Tinker Bell wanted Margaret dead.

"Uh, so," Peter started, standing up and offering that girl her hand. "You wanna see Hangman Jr.'s Tree, before we start the tour around Neverland?"

"Hangman Jr.'s Tree," Margaret asked curiously as she took Peter's hand, having him pull him up. Tink's eyes narrowed dangerously on their intertwined hands. Margaret too noticed their hands together and quickly pulled her hands behind her back, blushing madly. Peter, though, took no notice of this.

"Our new hideout, Hangman Jr.'s Tree! After Hook blew up the first one, me and the Lost Boys built a new one and christen it, Hangman Jr.'s Tree!"

"Oh," that ugly girl said, understandably. "I'd love to see it! How bout you, Little?" she turned to her small puppy.

The puppy started huffing happily, its slimy tongue dangling out of its mouth, as it nodded cheerfully. Tink swore she heard the puppy saying, "Yeah, yeah, yeah," under all that puffing.

"Great," Peter said, jumping up into the air. "Let's go!"

The girl nodded as both she and her puppy jumped up and followed him up to the sky.

Tink turned away, her eyes tightly closed to prevent tears of hurt and anger from falling. Peter didn't even see that she was gone. Decided to spend more time on that fat cow!

"Little, no!"

Tink looked back to find the puppy soaring down from the sky. A squirrel, who was busy collecting nuts, shrieked at the sight of a flying puppy who was heading straight for itself. The squirrel dropped its nuts and quickly jumped onto another tree branch, just in time for the puppy to miss its target.

The squirrel wiped its forehead in relief. But it froze when the puppy barked at the sight of the squirrel and charged after it in midair. Screaming again, the squirrel scurried as fast as it could, jumping from branch to branch. But no matter how fast it went or which directions the squirrel took (such as around the tree several times), the puppy was still hot on the squirrel's trail, even surprising it by going to other directions and ending up in front of the squirrel, causing the squirrel to scream again.

Tink watched on, giggling. It wasn't until she saw Margaret appearing that now turned Tink's smile completely upside down.

"Little," the girl called after her puppy, who didn't hear her and continued barking and chasing after the squirrel. "Little, come back! Little, stop!"

She flew after her puppy as the puppy flew after the scared squirrel. They all chased around the forest. The squirrel hopped from one tree branch to another, attempting to hide under leaves, only for them to be blown away by wind or by the puppy blowing it away. The puppy zoomed around the trees, its beady eyes set focused on the small squirrel. Margaret flew after her puppy, attempting to block and catch it, but her puppy was too fast for her.

Tink couldn't help, but laugh at the event before her; especially after spotting all their expressions on their faces: the squirrel's dreadful fear, the puppy's playful determination, and the girl's desperate frustration.

Soon, the squirrel jumped into a small hole in the tree. The puppy, instead of stopping, crashed head first inside the hole. But the hole wasn't big enough for it to enter inside like the squirrel. Instead, its' sides got caught and got stuck, its' front side inside and its back side sticking outside. Its' barking were muffled as the puppy moved its paws everywhere, scratching against the tree under its paws. That made Tink giggles harder.

"Oh, Little," the girl shook her head. "How many times do I have to tell you to stop chasing those squirrels?" She gripped her hands on her puppy and pulled, only to find out that her puppy was very stuck. She groaned before she lifted her feet onto the tree and pushed against it, tugging her puppy.

"I mean," she continued, tugging her puppy after every few words. "The last time . . . you chased a squirrel . . . you knocked bird eggs . . . on an old lady . . . and mum . . . had to . . . scold me . . . for your own action . . . I know . . . how much fun . . . it is . . . but," she started pulling even harder after making no success so far. "They always . . . lead you . . . to . . . TROUBLE!"

After that last word, Margaret finally heaved her puppy out of the hole. The puppy somersaulted a little and scrunched its face up, as if to fix its broken face.

The squirrel, the puppy had chased earlier, popped out of the hole and, raising its tiny fist, chattered angrily at the puppy.

The puppy, as if insulted, barked suddenly and started after the squirrel again, scaring the squirrel back into the hole. But the girl was quick enough to grab her puppy, holding it tight against her chest as her puppy moved wildly and barking madly.

"No, Little," the girl said sternly to her puppy. "You can chase as many squirrels as you like later! Right now, we need to follow Peter to his hideout!"

With that, the girl flew up to the sky, carrying her puppy along the way, who remained unchanged.

Tink stayed where she was, watching that cow enviously. She saw that girl stop a few feet above the roof of the forest. The girl was suddenly looking everywhere with a worried look.

"Peter," the girl shouted as her eyes searched the whole forest. "Peter!"

Curious, Tink flew up until only her head and neck was visable above the forest. She was careful enough to stay unseen.

"Great," Tink could almost hear what that girl was saying to her puppy, though it sounded like it was meant more to herself. "We lost our tour guide! Now how will we find him?"

An idea flashed inside Tink's mind. A brilliant idea that will get rid of that ugly girl permanently. So brilliant that an evil grin slowly stretched over Tink's face. She envisioned the whole plan in her mind and loved every action that must and will happen. The whole thing must work!

Covering her evil grin with a fake friendly one, Tink casually flew up to the girl as if any normal day. Tink flew up in front of the girl's face so Tink can be seen

"Tinker Bell!" The girl beamed at the sight of Tink. Her puppy barked at the fairy, as if to greet her. "There you are! Where have you been; you missed all the fun!"

Tink resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Then, Tink headed straight for her plan.

*_That doesn't matter_*, Tink chimed to the girl. *_But I do know where Peter went! All you have to do is follow me._*

Instead of an eager and excited twinkle from the girl's eyes, as Tink would have expected, she saw the girl frown in a strange look.

"Uh, Tinker Bell," the girl said slowly. "I don't know if you know this or not, but . . . I don't understand a single word you just said."

Tink slapped her face, stupidly, and slowly wiped it off harshly. Why didn't she remember that only Peter could understand her; not this girl! _Great_, Tink thought to herself. _Now how's this going to work?_

"Tinker Bell," the girl interrupted Tink's thoughts. "Did you, by chance, see where Peter flew off to?"

Tink looked up in surprise. Well, that was easy. Tink nodded, her smile growing.

"Really," the girl asked.

Tink nodded again.

"Where; show me!"

Tink's heart fluttered with joy that her plan was working quicker than expected. Tink waved her hand to signal the girl to follow her, then zoomed off across the forest. She looked back to see that stupid girl following her. Tink's sly grin appeared as she continued on, her mind filled with same images of the girl's sheer death.

At last, Tink landed on the foot of a one of the Never Peaks. It stood high up into the Never sky and stood alone, surrounded by a sea of grassy clearing. And surrounding the clearing was the Never forest.

Tink studied the Never Peak quickly and grinned devilishly, rubbing her hands together cunningly. This was going to be the most perfect plan she ever had.

Tink turned to the sky and screamed her chiming voice to grab the clueless girl's attention. She soon heard the approaching barking noise as the girl appeared and landed in front of Tink on the ground, still gripping on her puppy to prevent it from flying away.

The girl looked around. "Where's Peter?"

Tink held out her hands, palm forward, as if to slow her down. Tink pointed to the stupid girl and brought her pointed finger to the ground, where the girl was standing now. Then, she pointed to herself and then up to the sky.

The girl stared at Tink as she released the puppy from her grip. "So," she said slowly, raising her finger to point to Tink. "You want," she points to herself. "Me . . . to," her finger moved to where she was standing. "Stay here . . . while," she pointed back at Tink again. "You go," she pointed upward. "Up there?"

Tink nodded. The girl thought for a moment. "You'll find Peter and bring him here?"

Tink nodded again, only harder to make her statement clearer. Tink felt excited. The girl finally got it. Maybe she's not as stupid as she looked.

But the girl looked both puzzled and suspicious. "Couldn't we go find him together?"

Tink quickly shook her head, waving her arms as if cutting a tree.

The puppy was now occupying itself by playing with a butterfly, oblivious to the two others in conversation.

The girl looked doubtful, which worried Tink. What if the girl finds out her plan? What if she doesn't stay? What if Tink's plan fails?

"Are you sure?"

Tink nodded.

The girl sighed. "Alright," the girl finally said, her doubt slowly diminishing. "We'll wait here. I trust you in find him for us. I have complete faith in you."

That proclamation brought a slight stab of guilt in Tink's heart, but it quickly went away; overpowered by her jealousy.

Tink nodded once again to the girl before shooting up into the sky. She stopped at the top of Never Peak to look back down. She could see that stupid girl watching Tink for a moment before sitting down on the foot of Never Peak, watching her puppy playing with a butterfly.

Seeing that the dumb girl wasn't looking anymore, Tink flew toward the Peak and searched around it. It had to be there. She and Peter were planning on using it when they got back from London. Obviously, that won't be happening.

At last, Tink found exactly what she was looking for: a giant boulder with a carved 'P+T' on the very top. Tink remembered how Peter himself carved those letters with his sharp dagger, claiming the boulder as their own. She had been touched by this action and that gave her reasons to love him even more

But best of all, the boulder was sitting on a cliff that was high over the oblivious girl!

This plan was perfect!

Tink flew to the backside of the boulder and pushed against it with all her might over the cliff. However, the boulder remained the same. Tink tried again and again, each time harder than before, but nothing changed.

Tink groaned in frustration. How's this going to work now?

She raced down to the forest unseen and returned with a long, thick stick. She struck it under the boulder and pushed the other end of the stick down as hard as she could.

Her plan has got to work! There was no way Tink was going to let that ugly cow live any longer with her Peter!

******

"What's taking her so long?" Margaret wondered aloud.

About three or four minutes had passed and Tinker Bell has not yet returned with Peter. Margaret didn't think it would take the fairy this long to find Peter. Though Neverland is a pretty big place to find anyone. So, she decided to give Tinker Bell more time.

While she continued to watch Little play with a butterfly, jumping after it, Margaret thought about the famous Tinker Bell. She had learned so much of the fairy from all of her grandmum's and mum's stories. And, with all that knowledge, Margaret would sleep and dream of Tinker Bell and herself, flying together across the Never sky and just having fun, as good friends should. Margaret knew that Tinker Bell can get very angry at point (mostly toward girls), but Margaret believed that Tinker Bell does have a soft spot that she will only show to Peter. And, maybe by showing kindness and trust to the fairy (especially now), Margaret could gain that friendship with Tinker Bell, like she had always dreamed of as a little girl.

Margaret felt a nudge from her leg and she looked down to see Little staring at her. Apparently, Little had finished playing with the butterfly and has now come over to her owner.

Margaret smiled at her puppy and gently petted Little, smoothing Little's soft fur from head to tail. Little closed her eyes in relaxation as she snuggled closer to Margaret.

"Little," Margaret broke the silence. Little looked up at her. "Do you think Tinker Bell and I will ever be good friends?"

Little didn't respond.

"I mean," Margaret continued. "I know she wasn't much of a good friend to mum or grandmum. But Tinker Bell did become good acquaintances with them . . . eventually." She paused in thought. "Do you think she even LIKES me? Well, of course she does. Why else would she fetch Peter for us?"

Before Little answered, she suddenly stilled. Her right, floppy ear rose, hearing a sound from a far off distance.

Margaret looked questionably at Little, until she heard a sharp, stick crack. Her head shot up and searched everywhere. Where did that noise come from?

Little loudly sniffed a few times toward the forest and suddenly growled at it.

"Little?" Margaret spoke, but Little was slowly crawling toward the forest, as if she could see right through it to see the intruder.

Margaret stood up, looking up at the forest and down at Little, who stopped about five feet from the forest line.

All of a sudden, a spear shot out from a bush and soared toward Little.

Little!" Margaret shouted. Little jumped out of the way just in time for the spear to strike down on the ground. If Little hadn't moved, she would have been stabbed.

Margaret ran to Little and fell to her knees before her shaking puppy. "Are you alright, Little?"

As if to answer, Little whimpered in fear and buried herself under Margaret's night robe.

Margaret petted Little to comfort her until Margaret stopped when her eyes caught sight of the spear. That spear almost killed her puppy! No one ever harms her puppy! Not Bobby, not any of those V Gang croons, not anyone!

Furious beyond words, Margaret stood up, plucked the spear forcefully from the ground, then turned to the forest. "Who threw this?" she demanded. "Show yourself!"

The forest was suspiciously silent. But Margaret could feel eyes and silent murmurs from the forest.

She stood back and held the spear in an attack mode, pointing the tip of the spear toward the forest. "I said, show yourself!"

Still silence.

"I'm warning you! Come out of there, or I'll strike!"

Margaret waited, watching the forest very carefully. Little was still shaking, her small head moving from Margaret to the forest.

Margaret's eyes suddenly caught a bush twinge and, as fast as lightning, she threw the spear toward it.

"YEEEEAAAAOOOOW!" a voice cried out from a boy who popped out of the bush. "OW, OW, OW!"

The boy ran out into the clearing and hopped in circles around Margaret and Little, who were both staring oddly at the boy.

The boy was short and was wearing, what looked like, a bunny costume. His two front teeth stuck out of his mouth and his bangs hung over his forehead.

What else, a spear was stuck on the boy's bottom, the same place he had his hands on.

The bunny-clothed boy stopped at last, rubbing his behind around the spear and muttering in pain.

Without anything else to think of this, Margaret grabbed the spear and plucked it off of the bunny-clothed boy. Right when the spear was removed, the boy let out a deep, relaxing moan, smoothly rubbing all over his behind (much to Margaret's discomfort).

"Um," Margaret said, not sure what to really say to this strange boy. The boy froze and slowly turned his head toward her. He smiled shyly and laughed timidly. Margaret returned the smile, until she caught a slight, crafty spark on his eyes.

All at once, the bunny-clothed boy jumped up and made a run for it. But Margaret was quick enough to catch his long bunny ears before he disappeared into the forest. She held him up high above ground.

The boy started fighting unsuccessfully to break free. "Lemme go, lemme go!" the boy cried. "When I get down frum 'ere, I'll slice ya like a melon! Just yu wait!"

Margaret just stared at the boy humorously. Little was jumping up after the boy, barking at him.

Margaret turned to the forest. "Alright, game over! Come out where I can see you! Or else he's gonna get it" She shook the boy and pointed the spear at him.

There was still silence in the forest. Then she had an idea. She pointed the spear at the forest.

"If you don't come out on the count of three, you're gonna get the same thing he got!" She shook the boy again, who flinched in remembrance.

"One," Margaret began.

Still nothing.

"Two!"

Again, nothing.

"Three-"

"STOOOP!" came a voice from a bush in the forest. Another boy popped out into the opening, waving his hands in surrender. He was taller than the bunny-clothed boy and he was instead dressed in a fox costume with pointed ears and a long, smooth tail lazily lying on the floor. His blond bangs stuck out over his forehead.

The fox-clothed boy paused for a moment to realize that he had been caught. "Aw, man!" the boy whined. "That's not fair! We wer so close!"

As he sulkily walked forward, more boys appeared from their hiding place, all wearing the same expression as the fox-clothed boy. There were five other boys, and that included the fox-clothed boy. They also wore animal costumes. There was a fat, bear-clothed boy who had light brown hair bangs sticking out over his forehead, two raccoons-clothed twin boys who were mirroring each other as they walked forward with their brown bags sticking out as well, and lastly, the smallest boy of the whole group wore a skunk costume.

As they gathered in front of her, Margaret studied each and every one of them as she released her hold on the bunny-clothed boy, having a strange feeling that she knew all of those boys as if they were her dear cousins.

"Thanks alot, Nibs," the fox-clothed boy scolded at the bunny-clothed boy. "Ya had ta make us reveal our position!"

"It's not my fawlt!" the bunny-clothed boy complained, fixing his long, fake ears. "She stuck my spear stwaigh' at my butt!"

"Can we go eat, now," the bear-clothed boy moaned. "You said we cou' eat afta huntan!"

"Hunteeng, hunteeng!" the twin raccoon-clothed boys chanted.

The skunk-clothed boy jumped up and down and clapped his hands, as if joining the chanting.

"We can't eat until we caught something!" the fox-clothed boy bellowed sternly, facing and silencing the group. He turned back to the bunny-clothed boy. "But Nibs here missed his shot and now got us in trouble!"

"It's not my fawlt!"

"It is so!"

"I'm hungry!"

"Is not!"

"Hunteeng, hunteeng!"

"Is too!"

"Hunteeng, huntee-"

"QUIET!" Margaret screamed. All the boys immediately silenced, finally taking notice on her presence.

"Are you all the Lost Boys?" Margaret finally asked the question she had wanted to ask since she first saw them.

The boys looked at each other, surprised from her question.

The fox-clothed boy turned suspicious. "What makes ya think we are?" his eyebrows narrowed challengingly.

"Well, are you?"

"Yep!" the bear-clothed boy instantly said without thinking. "We sure are-"

The fox-clothed boy jabbed his elbow at the bear-clothed boy's chubby stomach, staring angrily at him. "Ow," the bear-clothed boy yelped and rubbed his stomach.

"So what if we are the Lost Boys," the fox-clothed boy said to Margaret. "Who are ya, anyway?"

"Oh, uh, I'm Margaret. And that," she pointed at Little, who was sniffing the skunk-clothed boy. The boy giggled when the puppy's nose touched him. "Is my puppy, Little. The one," she turned crossly at the bunny-clothed boy. "You tried to stab with _your_ spear!" Margaret threw the spear at him, which landed on his feet. Uncomfortably, he slowly picked up his spear without a word.

"Hey," one of the raccoon-clothed twins interrupted. "Yu aren't from around here!"

"Are ya," the other raccoon-clothed boy finished the sentence.

"No," Margaret shook her head, grinning. "I'm from London. Peter brought me here."

At the word 'Peter', all of the boys lit up like Christmas morning.

"Wait da minute," the bear-clothed boy said, thinking. "Isn't that pwace where Wendy and Jane come from?"

"Yes, it is. In fact, I'm Jane's daughter and Wendy's granddaughter."

After hearing that, all the boys beamed even more. They mumbled excitedly amongst themselves, peeking one eye on Margaret.

"Well," the fox-clothed boy announced to Margaret. "Welcome to our home! Neverland, the best place in the whole universe! I'm-"

"Wait," Margaret interrupted. "Let me guess." She pointed at the fox-clothed boy. "You're . . . Slightly."

The fox-clothed boy, or Slightly, widen his eyes in surprise, proving to Margaret that she was correct.

She turned to the bunny-clothed boy, who found the ground more interesting than Margaret's pointed finger on him. "And . . . Nibs." The bunny-clothed boy, or Nibs, nodded shyly.

She turned her finger to the raccoon-clothed twin boys. "The Twins." Both twins nodded enthusiastically.

Next was the bear-clothed boy. "Cubby." In response, his stomach growled and he moaned, rubbing his stomach again.

Margaret laughed at this and then moved over to the last one. The skunk-clothed boy was now petting Little. Little rubbed her small head against him, causing the boy to giggle softly.

"And you," Margaret finished as she crouched down to the boy's height, grinning warmly at him. "Must be Tootles."

Tootles smiled at her before he stood up and, tipping a little, wrapped his tiny arms around her. She quickly got over her shock and hugged him back. Tootles released her and went back to Little, who licked him happily.

"Hey," Nibs spoke at last. "Whatcha doin' here, anyway?"

"Yeah," Slightly agreed. "And where's Peter?"

"I don't know," Margaret replied, standing up. "Little and I lost him a few minutes ago, and then Tinker Bell found us and volunteered to go look for Peter for us. She told us to wait here and said she'll be back soon."

"Wait," Slightly spoke. "You mean, Tink left ya here? Alone? On purpose?"

"Yeah," Margaret slowly answered.

The Lost Boys suddenly became very uncomfortable, all looking at everything but Margaret.

"What," Margaret asked uneasily. "What is it?"

The boys didn't answer.

"Come on, tell me."

"Well," Slightly rubbed his neck nervously. "It's just . . . the thing is . . . uh . . ." He looked at the others, silently begging them to say something. The other boys just looked away.

Margaret was losing her patient and, before she could shout at them to tell her what was wrong, she spotted Tootles' hands waving at her to grab her attention. When he did, he put his hands together, flapping them like a butterfly, only faster. Then, he pointed at Margaret and made a motion of slicing his throat.

Margaret was shaken by what she saw and the translation she could identify from it. "You think Tinker Bell wants me . . . dead?"

Margaret could see, not just Tootles, but each of the boys head somewhat nodding.

That can't be right, Margaret tried to convince herself. Tinker Bell wouldn't do that; she was just helping her. "What makes you all think that?"

"Wendy," Cubby muttered and, again, the Lost Boys nodded in agreement. Margaret didn't understand that, until her mind flashed back to her grandmum's stories, where the part of Tinker Bell attempting to use the Lost Boys to kill her grandmum was repeated in her head.

Margaret shook her head in disbelief. "No, that can't be it. Tinker Bell wouldn't do that to me. I didn't even make her angry!"

But then a tiny voice in her head warningly told her that perhaps what the Lost Boys said may have a point. Besides, it shouldn't take her that long to find Peter; Neverland wasn't that huge. Maybe she is busy making a plan to . . .

Margaret looked up to the sky, hoping to see a glow that would vanish her rising doubt of her. "At least," she muttered to herself. "I hope I didn't."

******

Tink screamed in frustration when her stick broke in half. The boulder didn't even move an inch.

She furiously threw the sticks away and kicked the boulder, only to clutch her foot in pain. She was running out of time and she had to get that boulder moving before it was too late!

She looked around the boulder's feet and hurriedly pulled out all of the smaller rocks that held the boulder in place.

Right when she was pulling out the last rock that was sitting between the boulder and the edge of the cliff, the boulder finally moved, but with a slower pace. Tink was startled, but quickly recovered, twirling around in total success. But it wasn't until she noticed the boulder leaning toward her that she panicked and flew out of the way just in time.

She watched as the boulder fell over the cliff and rolled down the peak. Tink quickly looked over to the foot of the peak to see that the idiot girl was still there.

Yes, her plan was working! Soon, the boulder will crush her flat like a dead leaf! And Tinker Bell will finally be rid of that girl and have Peter all to herself again.

She zoomed down to the forest and landed on a branch that had the perfect view for the killing of that airhead girl! With pure excitement filling her heart, and her mind dead set on that stupid girl getting hit by her boulder, Tink watched on, anticipating what is to come.

******

"So, you wan us to take ya to our hideout," Slightly asked, interrupting Margaret's deep thoughts.

"Mmm, what?" She snapped out of her trance, turning to Slightly.

"I said, you wanna come wit us to our hideout?"

"Peter might-" said the first twin.

"Be there-" the second twin said, joining the first one.

"Right now-"

"Waiting fo you!"

"Um," Margaret replied thoughtfully. "I think that would be a good idea. So, this hideout, it happens to be called, Hangman Jr.'s Tree, right-"

Suddenly, the ground began to faintly shake underneath her feet. She looked down. She saw dirt and a few small rocks vibrating. But it was also a faded, tumbling noise that bemused her more. She wasn't the only one to notice this, for the Lost Boys where either looking down at the shaking ground or looking around them in search for the source of the sound. Little started barking alertly.

"Uh, does Neverland have earthquakes here," Margaret asked, taking a chance from this situation. "Cause I don't remember anything about earthquakes in-"

She stopped when she noticed that the Lost Boys weren't paying attention to her, but what's behind her. Little's barking was now louder than ever before, which made Margaret a little frightened.

The rumbling had gotten louder and louder and Little's barking voice went louder as if to compete who was the loudest.

Slowly, Margaret turned around and there, up on the peak, was a huge boulder, rolling dangerously after them. Margaret froze at the spot, her mind completely blank and her bones weak. She was so stunned that her body refused to work. She could faintly hear the Lost Boys screaming and scurrying away to the forest. She could barely feel Little tugging hard on her night robe, trying to pull her away to safety. Margaret could almost hear the tearing of Little ripping a piece of her night robe off.

Right when the boulder was extremely close to her, Margaret screamed as loud as her voice could and attempted to walk backwards away from the boulder. When she wasn't quick enough, she turned away and shut her eyes, waiting for the pain to hit her.

All of a sudden, Margaret felt warm and strong arms wrapping around her waist and pushing her out of the way. Margaret immediately clung to what felt like a body, and, burying her face in what was supposed to be someone's neck, listened to the horrible noise of the boulder rolling over the ground and crashing noisily. All at once, the noise stopped and silenced filled the whole area.

Margaret didn't move for a moment, afraid that something else would happen. She finally had enough courage to lean back and, when she did, she discovered that the body that she was clutching was Peter himself. He came back and saved her just in the nick of time.

Both of them were very still, staring at each other speechlessly. Their eyes slowly moved over to the boulder that was leaning against now crooked trees, blocking the boulder from entry to the forest.

As she stared at that boulder, she thought back of how close she was to becoming completely squished by that giant rock, if Peter had been too late. Boy, was she glad Peter wasn't.

******

There were no more words to describe how intensely angry Tinker Bell had become right after Peter save that cow-faced girl! Her body was burning so high and it only went higher when she saw how tight Peter was holding her. She had to fly midair to prevent herself from burning the leaves again.

Her plan had failed! Her perfect, thought out plan had failed! That stupid girl was still alive and, what's worse, Peter had rescued her and was holding her so close to him! So close that Tink had called that girl every single curses she could think of in her raging head.

She hated that girl with so much passion! She hated her with every burning fiber in her tiny body!

In fact, in Tink's opinion, Margaret was even worse than Wendy!

******

"Are you okay," Peter spoke at last, concern written on his face.

Margaret didn't answer at first, her eyes still on the boulder that would have been her gateway to death. "Yeah," she replied absentmindedly. "Yeah, I think so."

They both jumped at Little's sudden barking as the puppy chased over to Margaret, hopping up after her. Margaret left Peter's embrace and bended down to cuddle Little, who whimpered worryingly.

Peter had felt a strange loss of warmth when Margaret left from their hug. It felt very odd to him; he didn't know what it meant. He shook it off and turned his attention back to Margaret, who was sweetly laughing when Little started licking her madly, as if it had been weeks since they've last seen each other.

"I'm fine, Little," Margaret laughed uncontrollably, causing Peter to laugh along with her. "Honestly, I'm fine! What about you?"

Little barked in response, shaking her tail, and went back to licking her like crazy.

Margaret suddenly stopped when she searched the area. She rose up and faced Peter with a worried look. "Peter, the Lost Boys! Where are they?"

"What'd you mean?"

"The Lost Boys were here too! But they must have ran off when," she paused, raising her slightly shaken finger at the boulder. "That happened."

Peter looked back and examined the boulder and the forest behind it. He cupped his mouth with his hand and hollered, "LOST BOYS, FAAAAALL IN!"

After a second or two, the Lost Boys appeared, climbing over the boulder. They were all laughing and cheering at what had happened (except Tootles, who was instead moving around animatedly).

"Oh boy, did ya see that!"

"Wow!"

"Tha' was soooo-"

"And when it crashed-"

"Let's do that again!"

The boys chattered like girls as they gathered out into the opening. Peter couldn't help but smirk and, expecting to see Margaret scold at them or fuss over them, she was also smirking at them. Boy, was she different than any other girls!

"ATTEEEEN-TION!" Peter shouted in command and the boys immediately lined up in a straight line, facing Peter, Margaret, and Little.

Peter turned to Margaret. "So, I'm guessing you and the boys already got acquainted?"

"Mmmm," Margaret playfully thought, tapping her finger on her chin. "You might say that."

Peter smirked wider as he turned back to the boys and asked the same question. They all nodded their heads.

"Good. Now," Peter glanced over to the boulder. "Do any of you know what caused _that_?"

He pointed at the giant rock and the boys followed his direction. They took a moment to study it before they turned back and shrugged, clueless. Peter looked over to Margaret with a questionable face that spoke the same question. She shook her head wordlessly, not knowing the answer herself. Peter looked down at Little and the puppy also shook its head.

Peter flew over to the boulder to examine it more closely. It wasn't long before he spotted a carved 'P+T' on the near bottom. He remembered that carving, for he himself carved that with Tink by his side.

The boulder belonged to them and only them; no one else but them could claim it or even touch it.

It suddenly hit him like lightning bolt. Tinker Bell! She was the only one who knew where their boulder was. She was the only one (besides Peter) that could fly up the peak to reach it. But why would Tink cause their boulder to roll down and attempt to kill Margaret?

Right at that last word, Peter spun his head toward Margaret, who was staring patiently and curiously at him. Peter remembered Tink giving Margaret cruel glances at her ever since they had left the nursery room. But Tink would never stoop that low . . . but she had before. She committed the same act of murder on Wendy on her first time here and Tink would probably not hesitate to repeat it on Wendy's dear granddaughter. The same girl Peter had promised not to let any harm come to Margaret. And he almost had that promise broken if he hadn't been here on time.

"Uh, Peter?" Slightly spoke unsurely. Peter didn't hear him.

"Where's Tinker Bell," Peter's voice dropped to a low and dangerous growl. All the boys and Little stood back in fear. If Margaret was also frightened, she didn't show it. She just stood there and looked surprised.

"She left a few minutes ago, looking for you," she answered. The a thought flashed in her sky blue eyes. "She didn't find you, did she?"

"No," Peter shook his head. "It wasn't until I'd reached to Hangman Jr.'s Tree to find out you and Little weren't there with me. I'd figured you both got lost, so I went searching everywhere for both of you, until I heard you screaming and I came just in time to save you. But I never saw Tink. Not since we first arrived here."

Suddenly, Little began barking loudly and alertly toward a glow in the forest and Peter instantly recognized it as Tink. When the glow quickly disappeared, Peter shot after it, rapidly catching the glow with his hands before it flew up into the sky.

"Gotcha," Peter murmured, no playfulness found inside his voice. He held Tink inside his fist tightly; only Tink's waist and up can be seen sticking out of his fist. "You're not goin' anywhere."

Tink struggled to escape, pushing herself out but was unsuccessful. She also started shouting at Peter to release her. Peter ignored her as he took her back to the waited group. At the sight of Tink, the boys shouted out in greetings to her, oblivious to her furious and frustrated look. Little barked even more louder than before when Tink was closer; slightly growling at her. Margaret remained still, watching Tink and Peter closely, bewildered.

"QUIET!" Peter shrieked and, at once, the boys and Little quickly fell silent. Peter stared accusingly at Tink, who had covered her ears from Peter's outburst.

"Tink, did you cause that?" He shoved her into the direction of the boulder. Tink looked away from it and shrugged innocently.

"Don't lie, Tink! Answer me! Did you try to kill Margaret?"

Margaret's eyes shot wider at his question and, confused, she watched Tink, waiting for her response.

Tink smirked a little and crossed her arms snobbishly, refusing to speak.

"Tink! I'm gonna ask you one more time ad you BETTER answer me! Did. You. Try. To. Kill. Margaret?!"

Tink was now fully smiling the devil's smile and nodded proudly.

A sudden gasp broke into the air and Peter looked up to see Margaret's mouth covered by her hand. Her eyes revealed a veil of deep hurt and betrayal, staring straight at the pompous fairy in his fist. This only increased Peter's rage on his fairy friend.

"Tink, how could you do that," Peter yelled angrily at Tink. "I promised Wendy I'd keep her safe, not have her squished to death!"

Tink remained still as if she didn't hear him. Or as if she didn't _want _to hear him.

"Tinker Bell! Apologize to Margaret! And promise me you won't do it again!"

Tink did neither. Instead, she shook her head overconfidently. Margaret was blinking faster, but Peter could see a gloss of tears on her eyes.

Now Peter had it. That was the final straw.

"FINE THEN!" he screamed so loud, everyone, including Tink, flinched in surprise. "IF YOU WON'T APOLOGIZE, THEN I BANISH YOU FOREVER!!!"

Tink's face suddenly widened in shock and hurt. She shook her head pleadingly at him, jingling at him to not give her banishment forever.

"Sorry, Tink," Peter said, although his voice did not sound apologetic. "You caused this, and now you'll have to pay for it."

He was about to throw her into the sky, putting her banishment to full effect, when a gentle hand pulled his arm back, stopping him.

"Wait, Peter," a calm and soft voice spoke behind him. He looked back to see, to his surprise, Margaret holding him back. "Don't you think banishing her forever is a bit harsh?" she said slowly, as if unsure if it was right to say it.

Peter stared at her, taken aback at what she just said. "Margaret, why are you defending her? She tried to kill you!"

"I know, Peter. But she can't help it if she has . . . anger issues."

Tink stared at Margaret in disbelief. Peter was staring at Margaret with the same look.

"My point is," Margaret continued. "Just banish her for a week or a month perhaps. But not forever."

Peter was suddenly reminded of those exact words that Wendy had said to him when Tink almost killed her. _I guess Margaret got that from her grandmother_, Peter thought.

He thought for a moment, staring at Tink, who was now stubbornly looking way, but glancing at Peter uncertainly. Peter looked back at Margaret, who gave him a beseeched and sweet expression.

Peter sighed in defeat. "Oh, alright. Tinker Bell," he pulled Tink up close. "I banish you for . . . three weeks."

Tink revealed an upset look on him, but also a relieved one. It was better than forever. Margaret gave Peter a warm, grateful smile. But she still looked at Tink in the same despairing expression.

"Now leave and don't come back until then. And stay away from Margaret," Peter ordered Tink before he finally threw her into the sky, watching the glow of Tinker Bell grow fainter and fainter until he could see it no more.

******

Tink was thrown across the Never sky, unable to control her flight. Finally, she halted herself and looked back at here she last was.

She stared at it with hopelessness, sorrow, and anger. Even though she wasn't banished forever, she still got banished whatsoever. And it was that entire stupid girl's fault. Now she got Peter all to herself and Tink has nothing but her fairy home to return to. Now she has to stay away from Peter and she knew she couldn't do that. But because she was forced to, she had no choice.

Taking one last heartbroken look at the place where she last saw Peter, she slowly turned away and, tears falling from her tiny eyes, she flew away to the only home she has left: Pixie Hallow.


	7. Ch6 The Grand Neverland Tour

**Chapter 6**

**The Grand Neverland Tour**

"Come on, Margaret, cheer up," Peter said, flying next to Margaret. "We're gonna show you our hideout and then I'll take you around Neverland like I promised you earlier! Remember?"

"I guess," Margaret said distractedly. She couldn't concentrate on anything. It's a wonder how her feet carried her through the forest while her mind was only on the recently banished fairy.

She couldn't help but admit that Tinker Bell had hurt her deeply. She had trusted the fairy and believed the fairy would possibly want to be her friend. But to find out afterward that the fairy, whom Margaret had always dreamed of, had tried to kill her . . . Margaret didn't know what to think.

She had watched the glow of Tinker Bell disappear into the sky and her eyes remained there until Peter decided to take them all to their hideout. The Lost Boys cheered in excitement and ran off, leading the way. Little barked after them as she chased after them like she was chasing that squirrel. Peter would fly after them, chuckling along the way. But Margaret, who's thoughts remained on Tinker Bell, lingered behind and followed the noisy cheers of the Lost Boys through the forest. Soon, Peter returned to her and looked at her with a mix of confusion and anxiety.

"Margaret," Peter gently called to her. "Margaret," he sang, waving his hand over Margaret's eyes, snapping her from her trance.

"Hmm, what?"

"Margaret, you okay? You have been acting weird since we left. What's up? Well, besides me," he smirked at his own joke.

Normally, Margaret would smirk along. But now, Margaret wasn't in the mood for humor.

"Nothing," Margaret mumbled as she continued on walking slowly.

Peter frowned, following her closely. "You've been saying that word every time I ask you. Is that the only thing you could say?"

Margaret shrugged and walked passed Peter, who stopped moving and stared at her retreating back. He looked down in thought and a smile crept out.

Margaret didn't pay attention to Peter or what he was up to. Her thoughts still remained on the fairy that had deeply crushed her. She paused and rubbed her forehead as if trying to rub off her stupidity. She should have known Tinker Bell wouldn't even think of befriending her. All those descriptions from those stories should have explained clearly of what the fairy truly was and to warn her not to put her hopes too high on Tinker Bell. But Margaret ignored them all, believing in her childish dreams that she and Tinker Bell would become good friends.

She had been an idiot to have believed Tinker Bell in helping her. She should have noticed those sulky and furious looks the fairy gave to Margaret from London. She had been so stupid!

She still couldn't figure out why she had made Peter shorten Tinker Bell's banishment for three weeks. She should have allowed that fairy to be banished forever; she deserved it! But it was her childhood dreams that stopped her and convinced her to help Tinker Bell, even if that fairy would never forgive her.

Margaret felt so angry at herself, she felt like ripping her hair apart!

Suddenly, Margaret shrieked in surprise. Someone was unexpectedly poking its hands on her stomach from behind her and began to mercilessly tickle her. Margaret laughed uncontrollably as she struggles to get away. She could hear from behind her the sweet laughing sound of Peter Pan.

Margaret attempted to push Peter's hands away, but that only encouraged him to tickle her more. Peter pulled her off the ground, twirled around happily, and then landed on the ground. Both couldn't stop laughing.

Peter fell silent as he watched Margaret breathlessly laughing; his lips grinning as if he had accomplished a mission.

"Now there's that smile I've been looking for," Peter said. Margaret looked at Peter, still trying to regain her breath. Her eyes just couldn't leave his charming and wonderful eyes and his fun and exciting grin.

"Look, you can't go all grumpy and moody around here," Peter explained. "Neverland's a place for fun and excitement, not for moping around. You can do whatever you want here, remember? Forget Tink and forget London and that, 'America'."

Margaret smiled appreciatively at him. "You're right. I came here to have fun, and that's what I'm gonna do!"

"That's the spirit," Peter cheered. "Race ya to Hangman Jr.'s Tree!"

"But I don't know where it is."

"Too bad!" Peter shouted after he zoomed off and disappeared into the forest. Margaret laughed, shaking her head, and ran after him.

"No fair," she shouted after him. She could hear chuckles from the ageless boy and followed the noise. She ran through the forest, pushing away branches in the way and jumping over logs or rocks.

Finally, Margaret arrived at another clearing. There, she could see the Lost Boys, her puppy, and Peter, gathering around, what looked like, an old, crooked and leafless tree that stood in the center of the clearing. It looked about the same descriptions in her mum's story, and it looked like it was a duplicate of the first tree hideout (according to grandmum's descriptions of the old one).

"There you are," Peter exclaimed as he moved in front of her, his arms playfully crossed. "What took you so long?"

"Well, considering you left me all alone with no guidance, I had to let my wits guide me instead," Margaret answered, playing along. "Oh, by the way, next time that happens again, try to chuckle louder."

Peter chuckled. "Hey, if I would have known you like to hear my enchanting, chuckling voice, I could have spent more time on it."

Margaret covered her face, not from laughing, but to hide her blushing cheeks.

"Well," Peter turned to everyone. "Now that we're all here, let's go on inside!"

The Lost Boys cheered and ran toward the lonely tree. They went to separate spots around the tree, pulled secret levels or hidden switches, and disappeared into appearing holes. Little followed Tootles, barking along the way.

"Would you like to try our, 'special entrance', m' lady?" Peter asked Margaret in a mock British-like gentleman, bowing to her.

"Why, I would be delighted," Margaret said in the same tone, only lady-like.

"Then," Peter jumped up in midair and wrapped his hands under Margaret's arms without warning. "Here we go!"

He carried her over to the top of the tree and dropped her. Margaret screamed as she fell inside and landed on a slide. She slid down and around until she fell, bounced off from a bed, and landed right on Peter's waiting arms, who had already entered from who knows where.

"Now that was pretty fun, wasn't it?" Peter asked cheekily. Trying to cover her burning blush on being carried in Peter's arms, she hit him on the chest. This was a bad idea when Peter cried, "Ow," and dropped her on the floor. She could hear the Lost Boys laughing and saw Little right beside her, licking her pain away.

"What was that for," Peter frowned, rubbing his chest.

"For scaring me half to death! You could have warned me!"

"Yeah, but where's the fun in that?"

Margaret rolled her eyes and shook her head, grinning. Margaret then paused to take a look of their hideout.

It looked just like what the stories described it. It was an underground cave, where there's a bed (where the Lost Boys and Little were currently at), six small hammocks hanging on one side of the underground cave, and a bear-skinned rug lying on the floor. There were stairs that must have led to the entrances to the tree. And there was also a throne-like chair, where Peter swooped down and sat proudly on it, like a king.

"Welcome," Peter proclaimed. "To our secret, underground hideout: Hangman Jr.'s Tree!"

All the Lost boys cheered wildly and Little barked along as if cheering as well. Margaret grinned wider.

"Let me show you around," Peter hopped off of his chair. He pointed to his chair. "That's my chair. Only I sit there, and if anyone but me sits there (or touches any of my stuff), they'll be murdered in their sleep," He threatened dangerously. He said this while giving the Lost Boys a pointed look, causing them all to gulp uneasily and quickly jumped off and away the bed.

Margaret stared at Peter amusingly. He must really be serious about his possessions.

Changing the mood of his voice to a happy one, Peter pointed to the bed the Lost Boys had been on recently. "That's my bed where I sleep and sleep alone."

Margaret hid her giggle. No wonder the Lost Boys were so quick to escape Peter's bed.

"Over there," Peter continued, pointing at the small hammocks, where the Lost Boys now occupy. "Are the Lost Boys' bed."

Margaret could see Little jumping after the hammock Tootles was on, which was the lowest and smallest of all the hammocks. Helpfully, Tootles lifted Little and placed her close to him, earning a grateful lick. Margaret was glad to see Little getting along with him.

"Back there are where we keep our weapons," Peter went on, pointing to somewhere else. "And that's where we have our . . ."

Margaret no longer paid attention. She was staring at something that was sticking out from under a pillow on Peter's bed. Curiously, Margaret stepped forward and took it out. In her hand was a small and musical pipe.

"Hey," Slightly's voice rang out, causing Margaret to jump in surprise. "That's Peter's pipe!"

At those words, Peter flashed to Margaret and his eyes narrowed onto the pipe in her hand.

"Margaret, put that down and step away from it," Peter warned her.

Margaret's eyes traveled from Peter to his pipe and back to Peter. She grew a mischievous smirk on the thought of getting revenge on Peter for tickling her earlier.

"Hmmm," she raised Peter's pipe up to her eye level and examined it. She could tell, from the corner of her eyes, that Peter was getting more irritated from her playing his pipe. "I wonder how it works."

"Blow on it and you die," Peter threatened, but his eyes were playfully challenging her. Margaret slowly raised the pipe toward her mouth, building dramatic tension to the whole area.

"Don't do it, Mar'gret," one of the Lost Boys begged. She could hear the others agreeing and also begging Margaret. Little let out a whimper, as if to join the Lost Boys in begging.

But Margaret ignored them, her eyes dead set on Peter, who was glaring at her as if daring her.

Taking a deep breath, Margaret raised the pipe to her lips and blew on it, releasing a flute-like sound.

"That's it!" Peter said suddenly, jumping up in midair and zooming toward her. Margaret swiftly moved out of the way and blew on the pipe again, receiving a higher pitch sound than before.

"Look out!" two of the Lost Boys (possibly the Twins) shouted. Margaret twirled around and ducked just in time to miss Peter, who flew over her. She blew on the pipe once more and got a slightly different sound than the first one.

"Hey," Peter called out, grinning. "Give it here!"

"No!" Margaret shouted, also grinning, as she blew on the pipe, this time in three notes that was heard before.

Peter flew after her and Margaret ran away from the flying boy, still playing on the pipe, which seems to only play three notes.

Peter chased Margaret all over the underground cave, avoiding obstacles in their way. The Lost Boys, at first, didn't know who to cheered for. So, they just cheered for the both of them and watched the excitement. Little barked at the chasers.

Margaret suddenly stepped on her nightdress and was about to trip and fall to the ground. But Peter wrapped his arms around her from behind and held her firmly, spinning both of them around. They both burst into laughing again.

"Gimme!" Peter demanded, reaching for his pipe with his free hand.

"Never!" Margaret moved his pipe away from Peter's advancing hand. "Little, catch!" She threw the pipe before Peter's hand overtook her thrown hand.

Little popped out from the hammock and caught the flying pipe in her teeth. Margaret smiled triumphantly to Peter.

But Peter didn't give up. "Lost Boys . . . Get That Pipe!"

All at once, all the Lost Boys cheered excitedly as they jumped off from their hammocks and ran after Little. Little's eyes popped open at the stampeding boys and scurried away from them, gripping tight on the pipe. But it wasn't long before the Lost Boys jumped forward and stacked on top of Little one by one, burying the poor puppy under the mass of Lost Boys.

"I got it!" a hand popped out from the very top, his hand gripping on Peter's pipe. Margaret wasn't sure who the hand belonged to (she was too busy laughing to really think of this), but she had a hunch it was Nibs.

Peter flew over the tiny mountain of Lost Boys and snatched his pipe. "Thank you!" Peter said, satisfied. He flew over and swiftly landed on his throne-like chair. He rubbed his pipe, as if to clean the unwanted fingerprints off, and blew on it himself, releasing sweet notes from it.

He later narrowed his eyes on Margaret, who couldn't stop smiling. "Rule number one: no one touches my pipe but me. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," Margaret mockingly saluted. "Wait, since when did you have rules?"

"Since now," Peter replied, sarcastically. Margaret rolled her eyes and turned to the Lost Boys, who remained where they were.

Tootles, who was stuck in the bottom of the pile (_poor Tootles_, Margaret thought to herself), lifted himself a little and, from underneath him, came Little, struggling to crawl out of the small hole Tootles could only provide for her. Finally, Little popped out, free. She licked Tootles in gratitude and rushed over to Margaret, jumping on the bed and rising on her paw feet. She barked at Margaret and Margaret came over and petted Little.

The Lost Boys at last pulled away from each other and walked over to Margaret and Little, talking excitedly of Little, who was staring at each one of them with her joyful eyes.

"Alright," Margaret began, turning to Peter. "If there are these, 'rules,' that I've never heard of from the stories, what other rules I should know about?"

"I'm glad you asked," Peter said, as if expecting that question. He rose from his chair, placing his pipe on his belt, and walked over to Margaret. "Rule number two: no one sits on or touches my chair but me."

"Okay," Margaret nodded understandably.

"Rule number three: no one sleeps or touches my bed but me."

At those words, realization came over Little and the Lost Boys; they were all touching his bed. The Lost Boys quickly moved away from the bed to the other side and Little jumped down and joined them. Margaret giggled under breath from this.

"Rule number four: whatever I tell you what to do, you do it. Right boys," he turned to the Lost Boys.

"Yep."

"Uh-huh."

"He's the boss."

"That's-"

"-Right."

Tootles nodded lastly, absentmindedly petting Little, who curled up to him.

"Anything else," Margaret asked, slightly amused from Peter's rules and thought of how ridicules they were.

"Yep; there's a whole lot of rules for you to know. But that'll take too long. I'll tell you tonight, after I give you that tour I promised you."

Margaret's eyes let up, excitement filling her heart. "Can we go know?"

Peter chuckled. "Sure we can."

"Wait," Slightly interrupted, stepped forward. "What're we gonna do while you're gone again?" The other Lost Boys nodded in agreement.

Peter shrugged. "I don't know; go hunting again, chase some Indians, spook those pirates, whatever."

An idea popped into Margaret's head after she glanced at Little. "Hey, why don't you boys take Little on your own tour?"

Little barked in agreement and most of the Lost Boys took a moment to think about it. But Tootles, beaming as never before, ran to Little and picked her up, twirling her around in joy. When Tootles stopped, Little licked his baby cheek.

"Well," Slightly said at last. "I guess we could take the puppy."

The other Lost Boys cheered as they gathered around Little. Little released a few cheerful barks as the Lost Boys petted her.

Margaret smiled as she watched on. Little never had this many affection back home. It was only Margaret who supplied it for her dear small puppy. And now, the whole Lost Boys were taking over the position Margaret had had for many years. She wasn't jealous, but she did feel sad that Little will soon be spending more time with the Lost Boys than with her. She knew that. She also knew that she herself will be busy as well, spending time with Peter (she blushed slightly at that thought). It distressed her that she and Little won't be spending time together anymore like they use to, but she completely understand.

Margaret whistled out loud and the Lost Boys silenced. She motioned Little to come to her and Little obeyed, hopping off of Tootles and scurrying to Margaret.

Margaret kneeled down and placed her hand on Little's head. "You promise to be good to them and to stay with them?" she asked to Little. Little nodded and stood up, waving her paws at her as if asking to be held. Margaret's smile widened as she hugged her puppy, feeling her tail wagging in delight. Margaret pulled back a little to receive a big lick from Little. Margaret giggled, releasing her and watched Little run back to the Lost Boys.

"So," Peter suddenly said, surprising her. He was floating close to her. Margaret didn't even notice him moving up to her. He landed on his bed in front of her, took his hat off, and bowed, saying in mock gentlemanly voice, "Are you ready for the grand tour of Neverland, m'lady?" He offered his hand to her.

Smirking, Margaret accepted his hand, saying in mock lady-like voice, "Yes, of course I am ready, good sir."

"Great!" Peter placed his hat back on his head and let go of Margaret's hand, puzzling Margaret. But before she asked, Peter jumped up in midair and swooped behind Margaret, wrapping his arms around her tight.

"What are you-"

"Hang on," Peter exclaimed right before he zoomed up through the ceiling entrance and up into the sky, holding Margaret the rest of the way. She screamed in surprise, but stopped when Peter paused in the sky.

Margaret saw that they were high above Neverland, giving them a full view of the entire land. Margaret looked down to see a dot on the center of the clearing, knowing it was Hangman Jr.'s Tree there.

"Now, where shall we begin," Peter asked Margaret. Margaret turned her head to him, but quickly turned away, realizing how very close their faces were.

"Um," Margaret slightly croaked, hurriedly clearing her voice to properly speak. "Uh, I don't know. Why don't you decide. You're the tour guide."

"Alright," He said, oblivious to Margaret's croaked voice or her blushing cheeks. "Peter Pan's expedition it is!"

"Wait," Margaret said suddenly, stopping Peter from diving down into the island. "Why are you carrying me? Why couldn't I've just flown along with you?"

"Oh, well, I . . ." Peter's face unexpectedly fell into a frown. His eyebrows crossed in thought. It was as if he never really thought of why he decided to carry her. Margaret watched him thoughtfully, still being held in Peter's grasp.

"Because . . . well . . . uh . . . I . . ." He tried not to look at her, but his eyes glanced on her a few times.

Finally, he said, "Because it's . . . more fun this way. Watch." He gripped her arms ad flipped her over him, having her land on his back, her wrapping her arms around him securely.

"Hold on tight," he told her. "And here we goooooooooo!"

As he said that last word, he dived straight down to Neverland. Margaret screamed, whether of fear or excitement she wasn't sure. But what she did know was that Peter was no longer diving down, but soaring over the vast ocean of trees. Margaret looked over Peter's shoulder, gripping on him firmly, and could see their own shadows beneath them.

Her eyes suddenly caught approaching waterfalls. Margaret had never seen a waterfall before and they were all beautiful. Peter glided over one of them and flew behind the waterfall so that Margaret could see the other side of it. This side was more darker than the other side, but it had that same magical beauty as the front side. Peter took Margaret's hand and directed toward the waterfall, where her hand parted the falling water, releasing unsuspecting and sparkling drops on both of them. Peter and Margaret laughed before Peter did an unexpected act: flying right through it. As likely, they were completely soaked, but they were too busy laughing to even care. Peter shook them both until they were dry again and set off.

Peter took her all over the island. He took her around the Never Peaks, flew her over the beaches, through caves and forests, pretty much everywhere there is to see. Along the way, Margaret couldn't help but snuggle onto Peter's warm back, gripping on him gently. She missed the puzzled glances Peter gave her.

He flew over to the Indian Village, where the Indians there greeted him as Flying Eagle. Margaret saw the Chief himself and his daughter, Tiger Lily, standing close by him (though Margaret thought she saw a furious look on Tiger Lily at the sight of her on Peter's back).

Peter flew her up into the sky, gliding over cloud after cloud. Feeling adventurous, Margaret crossed her legs around his stomach and sat up, spreading her arms out to feel the wind brush furiously against her. Peter glanced behind him and, after seeing what Margaret was doing, he chuckled merrily and flew faster.

Almost too fast.

Margaret's legs began to weaken and she was suddenly blown off of Peter, falling straight down to, of all places, a pile of sharp rocks resting on the shores. Peter, hearing her screams, flew after her and caught her just in time, gripping her tightly with her back pressed against his chest.

"I told you to hang on tight," he teased her.

"Shut up!" Margaret laughed.

They continued onward, this time their position switched. Margaret now had the full view of Neverland under her. And just as Margaret had done before, Peter subconsciously snuggled closer to Margaret. He caught her youthful and ecstatic eyes and saw how her eyes looked almost like the Never Oceans he had enjoyed flying over on occasions. He quickly turned away when he realized he was staring at her too long; he had to focus on where they were. What he didn't know was that Margaret glanced at him and also wore a puzzling frown. Did he just stared at her? And why? She didn't know that Peter himself was asking the same questions.

Soon, they came across Mermaid Lagoon. Margaret was very hesitant about going there, remembering grandmum's story of her time here. And it was certainly not a good visit.

As soon as they saw Peter, all the mermaids there greeted him excitedly. None of them noticed Margaret, even though Peter was carrying her in front of him.

Peter landed him and Margaret both on top of the strangely shaped rock that sat in the middle of the lagoon. All the mermaids came and surrounded the rock, all staring adoringly at Peter.

There were about four or five mermaids. They all looked very beautiful, especially with all of their accessories made from shells, sea flowers, and pearls. Each of them had different style they wore on their chest, like one wearing starfish and one wearing seaweed. They, as everything else here in Neverland, were exactly described from the stories. Margaret also realized that the mermaids oddly reminded her so much of those V Gang girls back home. These mermaids had that snobbish appearance, acting as if they own their own, perfect world and took pride of that. And the way they were gazing possessively at Peter was enough to boil Margaret's blood.

"Hello, Peter!" all the mermaids welcomed him with awestruck clearly written on their eyes.

Peter, apparently, didn't pay attention to the mermaids' dreamy eyes on him, or even noticed it. "Hello, girls! I'd like you all to meet a new friend of mine: Margaret!"

He grabbed Margaret's hand and pulled her to the center so that all of the mermaids saw her. Instead of an animated welcome they gave to Peter, they each gave Margaret a cold stare at her. Margaret began to feel so uncomfortable under their glares, especially when most of them were on her and Peter's intertwined hands. Margaret quickly pulled her hands away, but that didn't help her.

"Who is SHE, Peter," a blond mermaid asked Peter, not bothering to hide her unkind tone.

"And why did you bring HER here," a redheaded mermaid asked in the same tone as the blond's. Margaret struggled to stay calm and ignore them, even though she was deeply tempted to strangle their necks.

"I brought her over from London," Peter replied, oblivious to the tension that was building up between Margaret and the mermaids. "She's Jane's daughter and Wendy's granddaughter!"

"Oh, how . . . nice," a raven-haired mermaid said sweetly. Too sweetly for Margaret's taste.

Before Margaret could respond, another redheaded mermaid, with her long, shiny hair in a ponytail, exclaimed, "Why don't you join us for a SWIM!"

All of the other mermaids eagerly agreed. However, Margaret spotted a knowingly smirk on each of their faces and suddenly had a bad feeling on their definition of 'swim'. And she was pretty sure of that definition from grandmum's story.

"Um, no thanks," Margaret shook her head and hands. "I'm really not in a mood for a SWIM."

"Oh, come on," said an impatient redheaded mermaid as she pulled herself up and rapidly grabbed Margaret's nightgown, pulling her to the waters. "We insist!"

All at once, the mermaids swam up to join the redheaded mermaid, each seizing Margaret's nightgown and her night robe, and tugging her to the waters. Margaret struggled to pull back, but couldn't. Their grip was too strong. And that, if Margaret tried harder, her nightgown and robe would tear apart and be ruined.

Margaret turned to Peter, who was floating above her, and tried to call for his help. But the mermaids were splashing right on her face, preventing her from speaking. Besides, Peter was laughing, as if this was just a playful game, and couldn't see Margaret terrified.

Finally, Margaret fell underwater and was forcibly pulled deeper by the cruel mermaids. Margaret kicked at them and tried to swim up, but that only made the mermaids pull her down even more. Margaret looked up into the surface, slowly losing air. Where was Peter?

Having enough of this, Margaret thought of a brilliant escape plan. She reached down and violently pulled the mermaids' hair opposite of their direction. All of the mermaids' mouth went wide open, releasing a trail of air bubbles (must be their screams), up to the surface. They freed Margaret and placed their hands on their heads, cradling their hair.

Taking advantage of their distraction, Margaret swam up as fast as she could and broke through the surface; she violently gasped, welcoming the wonderful and fresh air. She swam over to a large, flat rock that sat on the shores of the lagoon. She sat on the edge and took a moment to breath deeply, calming down her rapid heart beat.

"Are you okay," a voice spoke. Margaret looked up to see Peter floating over the surface, watching her closely.

Margaret wanted to say that she was fine, or even just nod at him. But after remembering that he hadn't saved her from drowning, or even stopped the mermaids from pulling under the surface, Margaret angrily shunned him and walked away from Peter, gripping her heavily soaked clothes from slipping off of her.

"Margaret," Peter called after her. But Margaret stayed silent, hopping on other rocks that resided on a river that lead away from the terrible Mermaid Lagoon and into the ocean.

"Come on, Margaret, say something," Peter begged, attempting to fly in front of her view. But no matter where he flew, Margaret avoided him and jumped farther away from him.

"Alright, now you're acting just like Tinker Bell," Peter accused her. _Gee, I wonder why_, was all Margaret thought sarcastically.

At last, Peter pulled her shoulders to face him and gripped on her firmly. Still, Margaret looked away, but now couldn't move away from him.

"Margaret, what's wrong? Are you mad at the mermaids?"

That finally got Margaret to look at him, only giving him a hard glare. "Oh, no! Why would I be mad at those pathetic mermaids?" She roughly pushed Peter's hands from her and turned away from him, returning to her skipping over rocks.

Peter grabbed Margaret's arm and forced her to turn back to him. "So you are mad at them, aren't you."

"Of course I'm mad at them!" She ripped her arm off of him. "They tried to kill me back there!"

Peter suddenly laughed at her. "Oh, they weren't trying to kill you. They were trying to drown you."

Margaret stared at Peter in a bewildered look for a moment. Has he gone mad?

"Peter, that's the same thing!"

"No it isn't. It's their little game they like to play with each other. They see how long they last underwater, which always last forever because, well, they're mermaids. Though, they never let me play with them. But they tried to play with Wendy back then."

Margaret took steady breaths to calm her frustrating anger on him. Apparently, Peter doesn't really understand the full concept of drowning. Mostly on how it affects humans.

"Peter," Margaret said slowly. "They never let you play their games because, if they do, you'd die. Humans are different than mermaids and don't last too long underwater. If they do, they'd die."

"Really," Peter asked her. She nodded. He thought for a moment before asking, "Do you think the mermaids know that?"

"Oh, they know it alright," Margaret replied. "Why else would they invite grandmum for a SWIM?"

"Huh," was his only response. He went back to thinking as he sat down on a large rock he stood on a second ago. Assuming this could take a while, Margaret distracted herself by collecting small, smooth rocks and threw them across the waters, watching them skip over the surface.

"Wait," Peter interrupted. "If drowning means killing humans, and the mermaids knew that, then that means . . . They were trying to kill you?" His voice suddenly went darker.

"And grandmum," Margaret nodded. "But yeah, that pretty much sums it up. At least that never happened, right?"

"Yeah," Peter said distractedly, staring at Mermaid Lagoon with a look that would murder anyone who looked directly at him. "Right."

This was the second time Peter acted so coldly. First to Tinker Bell, and now, to the mermaids. Margaret had never thought that she would encounter something like this from Peter. It just doesn't seemed to fit him. However, anything can happen here at Neverland.

Still . . . it didn't seem right at all.

Margaret looked over the ocean and smirked, hatching an idea. She looked over at Peter and crept up behind him. And, with all her force, she pushed Peter toward the waters.

But Peter swiftly flew away just in time and hovered over the ocean.

"Nice try," he smirked at her, crossing his arms. At least Margaret succeeded on distracting him from the mermaids. "But that's not gonna work the way you do that. Here's how you do it!" He flew behind Margaret, picked her up and, before Margaret could stop him, he dropped her into the waters, laughing uncontrollably.

However, a moment passed and Margaret remained underwater, bubbles from her air support slowly diminishing. When Peter noticed this, his whole joyful face dropped to a worried look. He landed on is knees on a rock and stared intensely into the water, where he last saw Margaret disappearing.

"Margaret?" He spoke with uncertainty. He lowered his face closer to the surface, calling for her again.

Suddenly, without warning, Margaret shot out of the surface, wrapped her arms around Peter, and pulled him completely underwater. As soon as Peter got over the shock, he swam up to the surface to reclaim more air, and Margaret followed, smiling madly.

"And THAT is another way of doing that," Margaret joked, laughing at him.

Peter glared at her, but couldn't stop grinning at her. "Why you little . . ."

He unexpectedly splashed her and she splashed back. Soon, a splashing war had begun and both Peter and Margaret had the time of their lives, splashing at each other.

Margaret stopped when she felt she was the only one splashing. She saw that Peter had disappeared. Taking a deep breath, she dove underwater and saw Peter motioning her to follow him.

They swam for what felt like hours underwater. They didn't even care where they were, but they were enjoying their time together. They found numerous fishes in every different colors and many beautiful corals. They even spotted a clearing where the light streamed down to the bottom of the waters. It was the most amazing thing Margaret had ever seen.

Finally, they reached to the surface and came to a large and flat rock where, according to Peter, he took her mum to after he saved her life from the pirates. With help from Peter, Margaret stepped onto it and tried to dry herself. She twisted her long hair tight to release water on her and did the same to her nightgown and robe. However, she was still wet and caused her to shiver.

But Margaret didn't mind. She was too joyful to care. So far, she had the most fun she ever had. She could never do this kind of stuff back home in London. There was no forest to explore, no caves to adventure in, no sunlight to bathe under, no ocean to swim in, nothing. Neverland was truly a paradise worth living in. She would have rather moved here than to America.

And the best part of Neverland was, not just the beautiful landscapes here, but Peter himself. It wasn't because she got to spend time with her mum and grandmum's hero, but she got to hang out with someone who was just like her. Everyone back home grew up too fast and would pressure her to do the same. Not to mention them believing her as a silly and ridicules child who refuses to grow up. But with Peter, Margaret could freely be herself without someone telling her to act grown up or to remind her of how childish she was acting. She and Peter would act childlike whenever they want and have no one else to stop them. Now that she thought about it, she and Peter are so much alike; they love to have fun and dislike the very idea of growing up. It would seem as they were a perfect match.

Margaret smiled at that thought as she twirled around, feeling her still wet clothes trailing along. Loving that feeling, she did this a couple of times.

Soon, she stopped when she caught Peter staring at her in a dream-like phase. He looked as if he was looking at the most beautiful thing on the whole land. What else, he didn't even notice Margaret looking at him in an odd expression.

She looked away, feeling flushed under Peter's stare and coughed loudly to grab his attention.

Peter jerked and lost his dream-like stare. "Mmm, what?"

"Why were you staring at me," Margaret asked him, still feeling reddened and also very strange, as though she missed his stares already.

Peter gave her a frown. "I wasn't staring at you."

"Yes, you were."

"No, I wasn't."

"Yes, you . . ." Margaret trailed off, feeling that this wasn't going anywhere. However, she knew there was something strange happening between them, whether Peter knows it or not.

Silence took over for a moment before Peter said, as if he had forgotten their earlier argument, "So, there's still more to see here! Where to next?"

"Um, I don't know, surprise me."

Peter chuckled as he flew over and took hold of her. "You'll find surprise is my actual middle name."

Margaret grinned as Peter carried her back to the sky as they continued on with their Neverland tour.


	8. Ch7 Starlight Waltz

**Chapter 6:**

**Starlight Waltz**

When Peter brought Margaret back to Hangman Jr.'s Tree, the sun had already disappeared and the sky had turned to the color of pinkish red and pale yellow with dark blue clouds covering the sky. A cool air blew gently over Neverland as many of the woodland creatures prepare to slumber for the night.

Hangman Jr.'s Tree was empty when they entered. None of the Lost Boys were found, not even Little. Peter told Margaret that the Lost Boys may still be hunting; they often hunt all day and night until they've grown tired. They will return soon, along with Margaret's dear puppy.

Margaret nodded at this, but her head was swimming with everything she had experienced earlier today. And she had loved every minute of it. This place was a lot more lovelier and fun than London. She couldn't understand why grandmum and mum would leave this enchanting land. If it was her choice, Margaret would immediately choose to stay in Neverland forever. That way, she never would have to move to America. And she'd never have to face anyone who criticize her of her personality and interests, especially the dreadful V Gang.

But there was something else that flowed into her mind from earlier. Thinking back now, she remembered of all the times she and Peter were closer than she thought before. And by closer, she meant _really _closer. Also, not only did she blush more by this, but a certain feeling fluttered in her stomach that she had never felt before. At first, she thought it was only the butterflies in her stomach. But why would she get the butterflies whenever Peter pulled her close to him. Margaret wasn't even sure if Peter felt the same thing. If he did, he didn't show it. But it did get him to subconsciously pull her closer to him.

Margaret wasn't sure what was happening between them and she wished she knew.

"Thank you, Peter, for that wonderful tour of yours," Margaret said to Peter and kissed his cheek, causing him to grin as if getting use to it. Realizing she had been doing that more than often, Margaret turned away, trying not to blush yet again.

Yep, something was definitely happening between them.

"No problem," Peter assured her as he swiftly sat on his throne-like chair. "Anytime you need directions around this place, you'll know who to ask."

Margaret nodded. She walked around the underground hideout, her eyes searching the area. "Do you know when the Lost Boys will come back?"

"The Lost Boys?" Peter said. He shrugged. "Who knows. They could be out all night and fall asleep somewhere else."

"Should we look for them?" Margaret asked, concerned.

"Na, they'll be back; this is you're first night here. The Lost Boys wouldn't want to miss a chance to spend the night with you."

Margaret smiled at him when suddenly, the ceiling rumbled and shook.

"Ah," Peter said in a casual tone. "That must be them."

Out of the blue, small heads popped out from the ceiling and on the walls, cheering. They all pulled themselves out and fell on the floor, laughing merrily.

Tootles slid down on a small slide from the corner of the underground hideout. He had dear Little wrapped in his tiny arms.

None of them seem to have seen Peter and Margaret, until Little started barking loudly and happily as she jumped off of Tootles and ran after Margaret. The Lost Boys looked and grinned widely at who they saw.

"Hey, Peter's here!"

"And Mar' gret!"

"They're back!"

"They're back, they're back, they're back!"

All the Lost Boys scrambled after Peter and Margaret and surrounded them before Little even reached to Margaret. In fact, the Lost Boys rushed through Little and caused her to stumble. By the time Little pulled herself up, the Lost Boys have already created a wall around Peter and Margaret, all talking madly at once. Little went to the wall and attempted to cross through to get to Margaret, but the wall was too strong for her. She tried going under them, but was blocked by their legs. She tried jumping, but she was too small to climb over them. She let out a frustrated huff and tried again.

Margaret was very overwhelmed at all the attention she was getting from the Lost Boys. She saw poor Little struggling to greet her, only to be pushed away from the Lost Boys (without them knowing it). Margaret tried pushing the Lost Boys gently aside so she could greet her puppy, but the Lost Boys came closer to her, practically shouting too many questions that Margaret couldn't really understand them.

She looked up at Peter helplessly, as if mentally asking for his help. It seemed as if he had heard her, for he stuck his two fingers in each side of his mouth and whistled as loud as he could.

All the Lost Boys immediately rushed into a straight line in front of Peter and stood in attention, falling silent. While they were distracted, Little barked joyfully as she ran into Margaret's arms, licking her face repeatedly and wagging her tail wildly, causing Margaret to giggle and hug her tighter, delighted to see her puppy again.

"Welcome back, boys," Peter said to the Lost Boys. "I assume you all had a good hunt?"

"Oh, you bet!" Slightly exclaimed. "We caught the biggest bear in the whole island!" He tried to prove his point by spreading his arms wide open.

"Yeah," piped Nibs, stepping forward. "It went all, 'Grrrrrr,'" he made a scary appearance on his face. "An' we were all, 'Charrrrrrrge!'" he raised his weapon high in the air and pointed at an invisible bear. "An' he was all, 'Grrrr, I'm gonna eatcha all alive!'" he made another scary face, his small hands clawing against the air. "An' we were all, 'AAAAAAHH!'" He suddenly jumped on Cubby's back and attempted to strangle and hit poor Cubby with his weapon.

"Ged off! Ged off!" Cubby exclaimed as he ran in circles, struggling to be released from crazy Nibs. However, the rest of the Lost Boys jumped on Cubby as well and they all ended up in a huge fight against each other.

Margaret couldn't help but giggle at their humorous fight. Peter rolled his eyes annoyingly and whistled again. At once, the Lost Boys froze in their place, staring at Peter. Their frozen position was even more humorous, as a few of them were either gripping, strangling, or biting each other.

"So," Peter began, smirking knowingly, both his fists on his hips. "If you have caught this, 'bear' . . . where is it?"

None of the Lost Boys spoke at once. They all got off of each other, their eyes cast on the floor. Neither one of them spoke, or even looked at Peter.

"There was no bear, was there?" Peter said. The Lost Boys shook their heads slowly in response.

"Don't worry, boys," Peter told them. "You'll catch a real bear next time!"

"That's whatcha said last time," Cubby finally spoke up, clearly complaining. Everyone of the Lost Boys nodded in agreement.

Suddenly, a deep growl erupted and all the Lost Boys shot into an attack mode, preparing to attack whatever made the noise.

Peter, however, chuckled. "Lower your weapons, boys! That's just Cubby's stomach!"

They all turned to Cubby's round stomach, which went growling again and jiggled visibly, just like jello. Cubby moaned, rubbing his rumbly stomach.

"I bet you're hungry, aren'tcha," Peter asked Cubby, who nodded gloomily. Peter suddenly snapped his fingers. "I know how to cheer you boys up! How 'bout we have the Ultimate Feast?"

The Lost Boys' face beamed at once and gave a loud cheer. They ran over to one side of the underground hideout and opened a hidden door.

"You have feasts?" Margaret asked Peter as she came up to him after releasing Little so that she could join the Lost Boys and help.

"Yep," Peter replied proudly. "Only on rare occasions."

"Like?"

"Like now!"

"And what's the rare occasion?"

"You're here!" Peter answered casually. That caught Margaret off guard.

They watch as the Lost Boys pull out a large, round table from inside the hidden door and carefully roll it over to the middle of the area. Tootles, the Twins, and Nibs held the table from underneath as Slightly and Cubby pushed it toward them. As the table lowered, the small Lost Boys ran to the each edges of the table and, along with the two other Lost Boys, they carefully dropped the table on the floor. Once the table was set, they all took their places around the table and plopped down, waiting.

Peter sat down on the floor at the head of the round table and motioned Margaret to sit next to him. And so she did, nervously. Little scurried next to her and hopped up to grip her paws on the edge. She pulled herself on the table and sat up, patting hungrily. She let out a bark as if to say she's ready for food.

"Alright, men," Peter announced. "You've all had a long day. Now it's time to eat!" The Lost Boys cheered. "Dig in, everybody!"

What happened next completely surprised and baffled Margaret and Little.

Instead of waiting for food to somehow appear on the table, Peter and the Lost Boys reached out their hands to the center of the table, wrapped their arms around small spaces on the table, pulled it toward them, and then, they began eating air. There were no food or anything on the table, and yet, they were eating something; all gnawing savagely and loudly. Margaret and Little glanced a 'this is not what I unexpected' look before they observed each of the boys.

Peter was clenching his teeth toward his clasped fist and violently tore away from his fist and chewed, later repeating the action again. Slightly held two of his fists up high and went back and forward, chopping his teeth at each ends. Nibs had both his hands up too, but his hands were cupped into the air and Nibs nibbled into it. Cubby moved his hands everywhere and pulled them to his mouth, repeating this action again and again and again. The Twins both had their hands apart before them and chattered left to right, the slid back and did it again, just like a typewriting tool. And finally, Tootles licked his lips, cupped his hands on the table, and brought it to his mouth, slurping noisily. While this was happening, Margaret and Little awkwardly sat there without a clue to what was happening and what they were suppose to do.

"Why aren'tcha eating?" Peter suddenly spoke to Margaret, sounding as if he was actually talking with a mouthful of food (even though there were none in his mouth).

"What's there to eat? There's nothing there." Margaret waved her hand to show the empty table to prove her point.

Peter swallowed before he responded. "Well, of course there's something there. What else would we be eating? Air?"

Both Margaret and Little (who was listening to the conversation) raised their eyebrows exaggeratedly at him, which Peter failed to see, turning back to his clenched fist again.

"The thing is," Peter continued, taking another bite on nothing but the air. "Food taste so much better in make-believe than real ones."

Then it hit her. Make-believe. It was all make believe. It was now clear to Margaret. There was food on the table, but they were all in the boys' imagination. And they were pretending to eat whatever food their stomach desired.

Margaret looked down on the table in front of her and took a moment to think of a favorite food of hers. She thought of one of the dishes grandmum would always cook for her back home: a nice, creamy potato soup.

Margaret closed her eyes and imagined a large bowl of grandmum's potato soup on the table in front of her. She could already smell the mouthwatering and delicious aroma that was silently calling for her. She opened her eyes and there, before her, was a large bowl of potato soup, exactly like she envisioned it in her mind. She wasn't shocked by the sudden appearance of the soup; she knew it was all in her head.

Margaret looked next to the bowl and imagined a small, silver spoon, ready to transport soup into her mouth. And there, right before her eyes, the spoon in her mind appeared on that very spot, next to the bowl.

With her eyes locked on the spoon, Margaret held out her hand and gripped on the spoon. Immediately, she felt the cold metal between her fingers. She moved it over the bowl of soup, which was still steaming hot. Slowly, she lowered the spoon into the soup and raised it back up, the spoon now filled with small sample of the appetizing looking soup. The smell of the soup in spoon grew more intense as she moved it toward her lips. Margaret gently blew the soup to cool it and, closing her eyes, she slowly brought the spoon into her mouth and sipped the soup.

She was instantly greeted by the taste of a warm and rich soup as she swallowed it down. Margaret took a moment to feel the warmth and the delicious taste of the soup. It was exactly like what grandmum had made. She could remember eagerly awaiting for grandmum to come from the kitchen and lay on the table a hot and luscious potato soup. Grandmum would sit next to Margaret (and mum if she was around) and began eating together. Just thinking of grandmum made Margaret miss her. And, although she also missed mum after thinking of when she was present, Margaret was still angry at her (she still had not forgotten about her mum's decision for them to moving to America).

Finishing with her moment of pleasure, Margaret dunk her spoon into the soup and gulped it in her mouth. She did this again and again, enjoying the sweet and hot taste.

It wasn't until she heard a soft whimper that she stopped. Margaret looked beside her to see Little staring at her helplessly with a depressing puppy pout. Margaret couldn't help but smile warmly at her dear puppy.

"This is all make-believe, Little," Margaret told Little. "Just pretend you're eating a nice, juicy bone."

Little gave her a puzzling look and looked down on the table. She closed her eyes tightly and whimpered under breath, as if wishing for something to happen as hard as she could. Little peaked one eye open and soon, both eyes jumped wide open at what she saw before her. Margaret didn't know what Little saw that excited Little, but Little was already munching and slobbers the invisible food Little had just created by using her imagination.

Everyone around the table ate for over five minutes, with nonstop eating and make-believe. Finally, they stopped when most of the Lost Boys groaned, holding their filled stomachs. Little was still munching on her pretend food, looking very much like a bone. Margaret finished her soup and imagined the bowl and spoon gone, on which, as if on command, they did. Peter swooped to his chair, picking his teeth with his fingernail.

"I don't know about you, boys," Peter said, flicking whatever was in his teeth away. "But I've had my share of feasts for one night, am I right?"

The Lost Boys groaned in agreement.

"Does anyone know what time is it?" Margaret asked, searching around for a clock.

Peter shrugged, not caringly. "I bet it's nighttime right now."

Margaret looked around and saw most of the Lost Boys yawning and rubbing their tired eyes out.

Margaret smiled as she stood up and wiped her hands. "Alright boys, now that we've finished supper, it's time for us to get some sleep."

"Bu' I don' wanna sleep," Nibs complained tiredly.

"Yeah, and besides," Slightly said, suddenly yawning. "We're not that tired."

"Is that so," Margaret playfully asked.

"Yeah," spoke the First Twin. "We wanna stay up all nigh'!"

"Isn't tha' righ', Cubby," the Second Twin asked, patting on Cubby. Unfortunately, Cubby was already asleep, snoring quite obnoxiously. The pat the Second Twin gave to him caused Cubby to fall flat on the table, still asleep.

Margaret shook her head and open her mouth to speak, but Peter beat her to it. "Margaret's right. It's been a long day and we need our rest for tomorrow's fun. Roll the table back in the hole and let's hit the hay."

The Lost Boys grumbled sleepily as they got up and carefully held the table up. Though the table got a lot heavier because Cubby slept on top of it, undisturbed. The Lost Boys struggled to carry the table all the way back to the hidden door. They pushed the table to its side, causing Cubby to slide down and land on the ground. He suddenly woke up and let out a tired, "Wha'?" The Lost Boys pushed the table inside the hidden door, closed it so it became hidden again, and slowly headed straight for their hammocks, getting more tired every step of the way.

Margaret helped a few of them get into their hammocks, mostly the Twins and Tootles. Slightly climbed up the wall and jumped onto his hammock. Cubby just fell flat on his hammock (which, thankfully, it was positioned close to the ground), causing his hammock to be pulled down to the ground. And Nibs climbed over to a bucket and pulled a rope that carried him up to his hammock. He quickly jumped off the bucket, getting on his hammock, and didn't flinch when the bucket fell on the ground with a loud _bump_.

Margaret spotted Tootles tiny hands reaching out desperately toward the ground. Margaret looked down to see Little standing up on her hind paws, staring straight at Tootles. Knowing what they wanted, Margaret wordlessly picked up Little and laid her next to Tootles. Both beamed at each other and Little let out a bark before snuggling with Tootles.

Margaret turned to Peter, who remained in his seat. "You too, Peter."

"Na, I'm not tired," he said, raising his arms and crossed them behind his head, leaning back.

"If you don't, you'll keep the Lost Boys awake as well."

It turned out that Margaret was right. When Peter glanced over at the Lost Boys, all of their eyes were on him, watching his every move. They were trying to keep their sleepy eyes wide open.

Seeing her point, Peter sighed in defeat, gliding off of his chair and landed on his bed.

"And where am I sleeping," Margaret asked.

"You can sleep on that bear rug over there," Peter pointed at the bear-skinned rug close to his bed. "Don't worry, it's awfully warm and cozy like my bed."

Taking his word for it, Margaret lay down on the rug (which was actually warm and cozy after all) and snuggled into the fur skin.

"Good-night, everyone," Margaret called out, closing her eyes, ready to fall asleep.

"Wait," Nibs piped out. "Tell us a story!"

"Yeah," the First Twin also piped out.

"Tell us a story," finished the Second Twin.

The other Lost Boys voiced out their agreements all at once, begging Margaret to recite at bedtime story, the same way her grandmum would have.

"Uh," Margaret said uneasily. "I'm not sure. I've never really told a story before."

"Come on, Margaret," Peter said to her. "It can't be that hard. Why, anyone can do it."

"Oh, really," Margaret responded. "Then why don't _you_ tell them a story?"

"Because I'm the leader," Peter quickly answered. "And leaders don't tell stories."

Margaret shook her head, the Lost Boys' pleading voice still rang in her ears.

Finally, she thought of an idea. "Why don't, instead, I sing you one of granmum's lullabies?"

Little barked in agreement and excitement, but all the boys, including Peter, wore a puzzled look.

"What's a, 'Lul-a-bys,'" Slightly demanded.

"Well," Margaret answered as she stood up. "A lullaby is a song that puts children to sleep. Works every time."

"Then let's hear it," Peter commanded. The Lost Boys hesitated, clearly wanting to hear a bedtime story. But because their leader asked for a lullaby, they had to go along with it. Only Tootles nodded furiously, just as excited as Little to learn of this new technique to slumber them.

"Okay," Margaret said, slightly nervous, having all eyes on her, waiting. "Mmmmm, let me think." She walked around, in deep thought of which one to sing. Little and all of the boys' eyes followed her.

Margaret soon stopped and turned to the boys. "I got it. It's called, 'Never, Never Land.'"

"Oooo, I like it already," Cubby commented.

Margaret smiled as she kneeled down on the bear rug, took a deep breath, and began to sing:

_"I know a place where dreams are born,_

_And time is never planned._

_It's not on any chart,_

_You must find it with your heart._

_Never Never Land."_

_"It might be miles beyond the moon,_

_Or right there where you stand._

_Just keep an open mind,_

_And then suddenly you'll find_

_Never Never Land."_

Margaret could undoubtedly see that it was working, for she spotted all of their eyes slowly dropping. Few of them were already asleep.

"_You'll have a treasure if you stay there,_

_More precious far than gold. _

_For once you have found your way there,_

_You can never, never grow old."_

_"And that's my home where dreams are born,_

_And time is never planned. _

_Just think of lovely things,_

_And your heart will fly on wings,_

_Forever in Never Never Land."_

Margaret paused for a moment. She saw that everyone of them have fallen asleep. Gently smiling, she slowly stood up and tiptoed to the Lost Boys' hammocks, pulling their blankets over them and giving them a gentle bedtime kiss on their cheeks (a longer one on top of Little's head) as she continued singing.

"_You'll have a treasure if you stay there,_

_More precious far than gold._

_For once you have found your way there,_

_You can never, never grow old."_

She paused again as she turned to Peter. He had fallen asleep on top of his bed, curled up into a ball. Margaret silently walked up to him, taking a moment to watch him sleep. She noticed how calm and young he looked and couldn't help but stare at his peaceful features. Soon, she gently and cautiously pulled the covers out from under him and wrapped Peter under it. She froze when Peter moved, but he only brought the covers closer to him and grinned, satisfied. Margaret softly giggled and shook her head in disbelief. She stared at him a bit more as she finish her singing.

"_And that's my home where dreams are born,_

_And time is never planned._

_Just think of lovely things,_

_And your heart will fly on wings,_

_Forever in Never Never Land"_

As she sang that last word, Margaret leaned closer to Peter until she was nose length apart and softly kissed him on the cheek. This time, it went about seven seconds longer than her other kisses with Peter. She leaned back and noticed how very close she was to him. She could feel his soft breathing on her. She quickly pulled back, unsure of what just happened at that moment. She stood up and walked backward away from Peter, still staring at the youthful boy before her.

Margaret looked around and saw the Lost Boys asleep, snoring both softly and loudly. Little snuggled closely to Tootles in his hammock. Margaret then realized, as she made her way back to the bear rug, that this was her first time Margaret had to sleep without Little by her side, as she had every night. And Margaret felt distressed at this. It was also her first time sleeping in a room full of boys, something she never had imagined would happen to her, or the fact that she now had to sleep on the floor. It all seemed so different and uncomfortable to her.

She dug her Peter Pan doll out of her night robe pocket and stared at it, thinking of her memories back home of each night. She remembered kissing her mum good-night (she didn't know why she thought of her mum; she knew she was still angry at her) and listening to grandmum's stories or lullabies before falling asleep, clutching her Peter Pan doll close to her. Thinking of all that had caused her to hold her doll closer to her, feeling as if a part of her had left her alone.

Then she remembered one more thing: the night stars. She would always stare at them for a moment, particularly the second star to the right, before going to bed. Margaret looked up at the ceiling. _I wonder if they're there_, she thought to herself.

After one last look at the sleeping boys, Margaret quietly stood up and tiptoed to the stairs that led to the exit. She accidentally stepped on her bottom nightgown and fell against the wall, causing a _bump_ noise. She froze, afraid to have awoken the boys. But, when she heard nothing, she breathed out in relief and continued up the stairs, missing Peter's stirring on his bed, his one eye popped open.

As she walked up the stairs, she placed her doll back in her pocket, not knowing that it was slouched out a little.

Soon, Margaret reached to a small door. On her knees, she pushed the door open and crawled out. She silently and slowly closed the door behind her and looked around her.

It was pitch dark outside, with light only from the full moon above. Crickets chirped melodiously into the open air and the cool wind gently glided across the forest. Margaret took a deep breath to inhale the scent of the exposed nature. She could never get all this or feel all this back home in the industrialized city.

Margaret looked up at the sky and saw, to her shock, the entire sky covered by billions of stars. London never had this many stars before; only a few of them. Her eyes widened, unable to look away from them. They were such an amazing sight.

Her eyes caught a tree that stood higher than the other trees. That gave her an idea. Without another thought, she ran into the forest, her eyes dead set on that tree. She could feel her bare-feet touching the slightly cold and dirty grass, stepping on a few sticks and leaves. She ducked the giant leaves in the way and moved a few of them away from her. But her eyes never left that tree.

Finally, she had reached to the tree. It was even taller than afar. Luckily, some of its branches were low to the ground and all of them were stretched out, making it easier to mount it. Cautiously, but excitedly, Margaret reached out for the first branch, pulled herself up, and then grabbed the next branch. Using her climbing skills from home, she climbed her way to the top of the tree.

Eventually, Margaret stopped at a branch that was thick and strong enough for her to sit on. It was also the perfect viewpoint of, not just the whole sky, but the whole surface of the forest. It was all so beautiful.

She looked up into the sky and gazed at the stars. She spotted the one star that looked exactly like the second star to the right back home. Margaret wondered how that was possible. Perhaps it must be, not a gateway to Neverland, but a gateway to London. It brought her so many memories of staring at that star so many nights ago, with her grandmum, her mum, and . . . her dad.

"You know," interrupted a voice behind her. "It's not safe to be out at night all alone."

Margaret jumped and twirled around, only to find a grinning Peter Pan, floating behind her. He had woken up and followed her to the tree.

"What are you doing here," Margaret asked him instead of responding his earlier comment.

"I should be asking you the same thing," he said as he hovered over next to her and sat down on the branch.

"Shouldn't you be in bed by now?"

"Shouldn't you?" Peter shot back jokingly. "What, the bear skin don't suit you?"

Margaret softly laughed. "It's fine. Now, why are you here?"

Peter shrugged. "I heard a noise and woke up. Saw you weren't there, so I came lookin' for you. A lot of things can happen in the dark, don't you know?"

It was Margaret's turn to shrug. There were a few seconds of silence.

"Alright," Peter suddenly said. "now it's your turn. What're you doing out here on this tree?"

Margaret's eyes were on the stars, silent for a moment until she soon spoke. "I'm just looking at the stars. I never go to bed without looking at them. I never knew there were so many of them here."

"Well, you don't expect to see them back at London, do you," Peter asked rhetorically. Margaret looked at him questionably. "London's got too many lights, it scares away most of the stars. But it never frightens the second star to the right!"

Margaret looked back at that star. "It never does," she said in a whisper.

Just then, a memory appeared in her mind. It was a memory she didn't realized she still had it after so many years. It was on the night before the terrible accident that took the life of her father. Margaret, a little girl, had finished saying her good-nights to her mum and waited in her room. Soon, dad came in, ecstatic to see her small angel. Margaret hopped onto him and he swiftly caught her, lifting her up and ran around the room, as if she was flying. Both eventually fell down laughing uncontrollably. After they quieted down, dad escorted her to the window, where they sat on the window seat and looked up at the stars. Dad would point to each star, naming each one of them to her. Margaret shot her tiny finger to the second star to the right and called it, Neverland. Then, she asked him why there weren't many stars in the sky. And his answer was the exact same thing Peter had recently said to her: most of the stars were terrified by the illuminated city, but the only ones who weren't afraid was the second star to the right and the first star on the left. Afterward, Margaret asked that, if the second star to the right led to Neverland, then where does the first star on the left lead to. And Margaret never forgot her dad's answer: it led to the dwelling of many angels who would escort the deceased ones' spirit to their beautiful and everlasting home, so the spirit won't have to wonder the universe alone and homeless.

Coming back to the present, her eyes watered as she shifted her eyes to the first star on the left. She wondered if her father had found his way there, by the help of their angels. She also wondered what he is doing right now. Could he be playing with the angels there or helping the departed spirits find their way to their new home? Does he even remember her and mum? Could he have watched over Margaret her entire life from his eternal home?

A tear fell down her cheek.

"Why are you crying," Peter abruptly asked in a gentle voice.

Feeling insecure on crying in front of him, she quickly turned away and wiped out tears from her eyes. "I'm not crying."

"Yes you are. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong!" Margaret shot at him.

"Of course, there's something wrong, just tell me!"

"No, Peter, I won't! I shouldn't tell you anything about it!"

Peter stared at her for awhile until he spoke softly, "You know you can tell me anything if something's wrong, right?" His eyes were begging her to talk to him, so he can do anything to cheer her up.

Margaret sighed as she looked away. After a long moment of complete silence, she finally spoke to him.

"I was just thinking about my dad."

Peter gave her a surprised look. "You have a dad?"

"I _had _a dad," Margaret said miserably. "He was the most amazing dad I ever had. But now he's . . . "

Peter looked at her carefully as another tear fell down on her cheek. "What happened to him? Did he abandoned you like any grown-ups would do?"

Margaret gave him an angry glare. "You know, not all grown-ups are evil, Peter! My dad was never evil! He was one of the most wonderful and caring human being I've ever had in my entire life! And if you _dare _curse him, I swear I'll . . . I'll . . ." She trailed off, feeling more tears approaching. She hurriedly turned away, refusing to look at Peter.

Peter just watched her with a repentant guise.

"I'm sorry," Peter almost whispered, sounding so apologetic. "I didn't know."

Another silence filled the air for a moment. Then, Margaret took a deep breath and told Peter her answer.

"He's dead."

Again, silence came.

"What's 'dead'?" Peter asked. Margaret looked at him, shocked that he would ask a question like that. But when she saw him, he truly looked genuinely puzzled and curious. He really had not heard of 'death' before.

"Are you serious," Margaret asked him, just to understand him. "You really don't know what 'death' means? I thought you knew what it was. Remember the mermaid drowning earlier?"

Peter paused to think. "It's just . . . I've been told before that death is when your whole body shuts down forever. But, now, I don't think that's even it. I don't know. It just sounds awful to me."

"It is," Margaret mumbled to herself. She faced him so that she could clearly explain to him. "Peter, death is . . . well it's . . . it's kind of like . . ." she trailed off. How can she explain something very grave to a child that has never experienced something like that. Usually, grown-ups have an easier perspective of death; they would know what to say.

Peter was watching her closely, waiting for her answer, which Margaret had a hard time finding. "Um . . . have you . . . have you ever saw someone who . . . I don't know . . . almost disappeared forever?"

Peter thought for a minute until he found his answer. "Yeah, twice. With Tinker Bell. When she got hurt or sick, her light began to fade slowly. If she isn't well soon, her light will vanish forever."

"That means she was dying when she got hurt or sick," Margaret explained as best as she could. "If she isn't well . . . she would have died."

Peter paused, trying to understand her. "So, if our light fades, we die? Does that mean we have lights like Tink?"

"No, Peter," Margaret said, slightly frustrated. She thought of another way of explaining it. "It's like . . . death is like, uh, falling asleep. An everlasting sleep."

"Well, that doesn't sound too bad."

"But it is. You know in stories, when someone falls into an everlasting sleep and is awoken by a kiss?" Peter nodded. "Well, in reality, a kiss will not break the spell. They will never, ever wake up. Soon, their breathing will stop and their spirit will be forced to leave their body forever. Soon, the body will be nothing but an empty and lifeless shell."

"Wow," Peter breathed in terror. "Now that sounds bad. So that's what happened to your dad?" Margaret nodded. "Did he . . . die . . . from hurt or sick?"

"Hurt. Real bad hurt."

"Oh," was all Peter could say.

More of Margaret's tears fell from her eyes. "I never forgot what he looked like, how much fun we had together, and how much he had made me and mum so happy. He would always explain the little things to me whenever I asked him to." She gasped. "I loved him so much," she cried.

"Loved?"

Margaret looked at Peter, bewildered. "You don't know what love is either?"

"Not really," Peter said, shaking his head. "Though, it sounds a lot nicer than 'death'."

"It is," Margaret agreed. "You see, love is . . ." she stopped when Peter moved forward to listen to her. She had just realized how close they really were. Her eyes were on Peter, never wishing to look away from him. She slowly moved her head toward him to get even closer to him so that they would have a chance to-

Margaret quickly pulled back, gasping, and looked away, anywhere that wasn't Peter. She couldn't believe what just happened and what could have happened if she didn't pull away. What was happening to her? Why was she suddenly having this feeling that was so new to her and only happens whenever she's around with Peter?

Peter.

"What is it?" Peter asked, alarmed. "What's wrong?"

Margaret couldn't speak, her mind in total blank.

"Margaret, what is it?" Peter tried again, raising his voice a little.

Margaret looked up at Peter, only to rapidly turn away, staring straight down. "Um," she mumbled absentmindedly. She looked up at the sky. "It's, uh, getting late. We should head back to Hangman Jr.'s Tree." Not waiting for Peter's response, she swiftly grabbed on to other branches and made her way down the tree. She never looked back at Peter, who was staring at her in confusion.

"Margaret?" Peter called after her, but she ignored him. Soon, she felt Peter's floating body following her. That only persuade her to climb down faster. "Alright, Margaret, what's going on? You're avoiding me again? This time, you didn't drown." Margaret continued to ignore him and Peter followed her as she came close to the bottom. "Come on, Margaret, tell me! Please?"

She finally reached to the ground, quickly walking off without looking back (she was afraid to). "Look, Peter, we're all tired. We really need to get some sleeEEEEEE-"

Her foot suddenly stepped on her nightgown, causing her to stumble and fall to the ground. However, Peter swooped in front of her and caught her right in his arms, gripping her tightly.

He slightly chuckled. "You know, you should be more careful at least once in a while."

Margaret picked herself up, ready to retort to his comment, until she looked up at him. Both hers and Peter's eyes locked together, refusing to break away. They didn't think about what they were doing; their minds were blank. They stared at each other as if they had discovered something so stunning then they've ever seen before. After a long moment of gazing at each other, they slowly began to move closer and closer, their eyes almost closed . . .

Without warning, they moved far away from each other, shock clearly written on their faces. Something had definitely happened to them; something even deeper. And it was obvious that, whatever Margaret was feeling, she wasn't the only one.

"Um," Margaret muttered in a small voice, as if unsure if she should speak. "Do you still . . . wanna know what . . . love . . . is?" She ended in a tiny whisper. She wasn't even sure if Peter heard her.

He shook his head as if waking up from a trance. "Uh, what? Oh, yeah! Yeah, I do."

Margaret sighed, feeling very uncomfortable at this moment, especially to this topic. She nervously cleared her voice and took a deep breath.

"Well," she began. "Love is . . . it's . . . it's kind of like . . . um." She was getting more nervous by the second, twisting her night robe uneasily. Peter kept watching her patiently and curiously at her strange behavior over the subject.

"Well, love's . . . sort of like . . . it's actually . . . an affection," she finally said.

"An affection?" Peter asked.

"Um, well, two kinds of affection. One is like . . . um . . . like the way I feel toward my dad or my mum and grandmum. It's sort of like family love. You'd feel so close to someone, whether they are a boy or a girl, as if you're all related. You and this . . . someone do everything together and you'd want to spend as much time with them as you can. You'd help each other out and . . . um . . . you'd feel so close to them and so connected in a special way that . . . you'd do anything to . . . keep that someone . . . close to you . . . forever."

Margaret snuffled up a little. She hid her face to wipe her hidden tears away. Peter lost himself in a deep thought for a long moment. Margaret glanced at Peter, wondering what he was thinking. Then, she turned to the stars, remembering how beautiful they were.

"Like Tink and me," Peter asked out of nowhere. Margaret looked at Peter in surprise. He thought of Tinker Bell as a close relative. Even after Peter had banished her, Tinker Bell was still very close to him. Margaret smiled at how much Tinker Bell meant to him, even though Peter sounded as if it wasn't a big deal.

"Yes," Margaret answered. "Just like that."

"Oh," Peter bowed his head. He later looked up. "What about the other one?"

"Other what?"

"Other . . . affection?"

Margaret's cheeks suddenly burned. She knew what the other was, but she wasn't sure how to explain that to him.

She stepped toward him, looking at anything but his face. Somehow, looking at him only increased the heat of her cheeks.

"The other one . . . is . . . completely different than the . . . first one. It's . . . so much deeper . . . I just don't know how to explain it to you," she admitted.

"Try," Peter encouraged her.

Margaret waited for a minute before she began again. "It's . . . well . . . um . . . when you . . . love a girl . . . it's like being friends." She groaned in frustration. She could tell she wasn't getting anywhere. Already, Peter's face was scrunched into confusion. Margaret knew she had to start from the beginning to make it easier for both him and her.

"It's when a boy and girl like each other very much. They share their affections toward each other; their hearts belonging to each other and . . . it's such a beautiful feeling. Your heart would flutter when you see her, your cheeks would turn red when she comments about or to you, your cheeks would burn whenever she looks at you. You two would be so perfect together. You would have done anything for her; to make her happy and, if she's happy, you're happy. And, if anything happened to her, if she get's herself into trouble, you'd want to help her. If she's hurt or sick, you'd want to heal her; to make her feel better. And . . . if she's . . . gone or . . . dead . . . then your heart will break into a million pieces and . . . you'd have felt the worst pain in your whole life . . . and . . . you'd want to do anything to bring her back . . . but you can't. She would have been gone forever and you would have to carry that pain for a very long time."

It took a long while for her speech to sink into Peter. None of them dared to speak. Finally, he asked her, "Has that happened to you before?"

Margaret was completely caught off guard by that question. "Oh, uh, no, no, it hasn't really! Well, yet, I hope."

"Why," Peter asked, genuinely puzzled. "Why would you want all that to happen to you? What about all that pain that comes from it? Do you want that? If it were me, I'd pass! Don't you?"

Her heart pinched at what he said. "Of course I don't want that pain, Peter! But," Margaret looked up at the bright stars again, spotting the second star to the right. "If I love him with all my heart . . . then it will be worth it."

Once again, silence filled the open air between the two. Margaret's eyes were on the Neverland stars, but Peter's eyes were on her. He slowly touched his cheek, where Margaret had repeatedly kissed him there. Catching an idea, he gradually leaned forward, his lips directed to Margaret's smooth cheek.

Margaret felt Peter moving closer to her, so she turned to him to see what he was doing.

Instead of Peter's lips touching her cheek, it ended up touching her lips.

Immediately, they jumped far apart, absolutely shocked at what just happened. They touched their lips as they stared at each other, completely speechless. They stood frozen for a long time, afraid to move even an inch.

Soon, Peter gathered enough courage to speak first. "What was that?"

Margaret almost didn't hear him; her mind blank. "What?"

Peter cleared his voice and tried again. "Um . . . what was . . . what just happened?"

Margaret bit her lips, only to stop, remembering those same lips that had touched Peter's a few seconds ago.

"I . . . I think we just . . . kissed."

Again, Peter wore a puzzling feature. "That's a kiss?" Margaret nodded wordlessly. "You mean that was what Wendy was trying to show me?"

"Wait, what," Margaret asked him curiously. Her grandmum tried to _kiss him_?

"After I told her she could come with me to Neverland," Peter explained. "She said she wanted to give me a kiss. I asked what was a kiss and she said she'd show me. She closed her eyes and leaned toward me. I got nervous and backed up."

"Did she really . . . kiss you," Margaret asked, feeling strangely irritated on the possibility of her grandmum actually kissing Peter.

"No," Peter answered with a slight reassured grin. "She almost did, but Tink came and pulled her hair sharply, pulling her away from me. I don't know what would have happened if she hadn't."

"Oh, good." Margaret released a relieved breath she didn't know she had. But that still didn't ease the complete shock over their first kiss. So, she asked Peter in a small and nervous voice:

"Did you . . . like that . . . kiss?"

Peter didn't respond at first, obviously thinking as he looked down at his lips. "It felt . . . weird," he admitted. "And . . . kind of gross." He worse a disgusted look and gently wiped his lips with his hand.

Margaret felt as if an invisible dagger stabbed her hard and deep. He didn't like the kiss. He didn't feel a thing like Margaret had. _And why should he_, a voice whispered in her head. _He's just a boy. He'll never understand the true meaning of love and a kiss. And he'll never will._

That only moistened her eyes. To think that Peter Pan, the boy who refused to grow up, would have felt the exact same thing Margaret was feeling. She felt so stupid. She felt as if the whole time, Peter never felt something between them as she had.

"Oh," Margaret muttered as she turned away. She couldn't stand looking at him without having her heart dance blissfully at the sight of him, yet drowned into a sea of dejection. She couldn't even stand close to him, absolutely confused at this whole thing that was providing her with more ache.

She slowly walked away from him. "I see. That should have never happened, then. I understand." She soon disappeared into the forest and speeded up, not caring on where she was going. She ignored Peter's calling for her, attempting to prevent tears from falling out of her eyes. Why was this happening to her?

Eventually, she instantly stopped when her bare feet touched something cold and wet. She backed up and saw a small lake. What caught her attention was what the lake possessed. The lake had a smooth surface, not a tiny ripple to be spotted (well, after it calmed down from Margaret's interruption). The lake softly glittered like a diamond ring and had the perfect reflection of the starlight sky way above her. All the trees and forest surrounded the lake, revealing the beaming of the moonlight.

Just the sight of the beautiful lake erased all of her troubled event with Peter a while ago.

She didn't even notice Peter finally catching up to her, only to stop to see her enchanted by the peaceful and sparkling lake. He silently stood right beside her and waited.

Margaret stepped her foot into the water, then raised it up until it was settled on the surface. This gave her an idea.

"Peter, do you have extra pixie dust with you by chance?"

"Oh yeah," Peter said, relieved that the earlier tension was over. He reached down to his belt and opened a hidden pocket, pulling out a small cloth bag. The bag was faintly twinkling by tiny gold dust.

"This was in case Tink wasn't around," Peter answered her unspoken question. He carefully untied the bag and poured a little bit of pixie dust on top of her head.

The only happy thought Margaret could think of was of her memories with grandmum and mum, both watching the stars with young Margaret. This brought a smile to her face and, instantly, she felt her feet leaving the ground.

Slowly but surely, she held out her foot and placed it over the surface. Then, she reached out her other foot and stepped forward. Soon, she was walking over the surface of the lake.

Once she reached to the center of the lake, she gazed at the sparkling lake around her and couldn't help but giggle. She had never 'walked' on water before and it thrilled her. She twirled around and around, giggling more. She had completely forgotten that Peter was still standing on the ground, watching her closely.

Margaret soon ended up dancing on the surface of the lake. She kicked the surface water and dipped her toes into the water, spinning her toes around. She waltz over the water, dancing at an invisible dance partner. She fell lost in her own world.

"What are you doing," Peter suddenly called to her. Margaret jumped in surprised, finally seeing Peter's presence. She abruptly felt all those feelings she had felt earlier and struggled to banish them away.

"Oh, uh, I was just, um, dancing."

"Dancing," Peter asked as he floated toward her. Margaret stood back a little, for once afraid of him getting closer to her. "That looks like fun. Can you show me how to dance?"

Margaret now felt extremely nervous. She wasn't sure if she could. Especially to him. But Margaret was determined not to let whatever it was interfere with her having fun with Peter.

"Um, sure," Margaret said. She stepped closer to him, again feeling that same nervousness. She forcefully pushed it down.

She took Peter's right hand and slowly placed it on her hip. "First, you put one hand on my hip, like this." She took Peter's left hand and unhurriedly intertwined them. "And we hold our hands like this." Peter nodded at every word she said, but it was clear that he was getting uneasy about the whole thing. However, he didn't say a word.

"Now, if you step back, I step forward. If I move back, you move forward. Got it?"

"Got it," Peter said, even though he didn't really get it.

Then, Margaret went straight to dancing with Peter. However, it didn't go so well. Peter kept stepping on Margaret's feet and repeatedly missing his cues to move opposite of her. It was clear that dancing wasn't working out and they soon had to stop when nothing had changed.

"This is just too hard," Peter complained. "Isn't there an easier way of doing this?"

"I don't know, Peter. I don't think there is an easier way." Margaret sighed as her head fell. She spotted the moonlight beam and raised her hand to see a long shadow cast from her hand. She looked up and saw countless stars in a clear night sky.

"They're so beautiful," Margaret said softly, whether she was saying that to Peter or to no one. "I wish I could get a closer look at them."

Peter looked at her, looked up to the stars, and then looked back at her, an idea forming in his head. Grinning mischievously, he unexpectedly gripped Margaret's waist with both hands and pushed her up to the sky.

Soon enough, Margaret, taken by surprise, was soaring high above the forest and up to the sky. Ecstasy filled her heart, a gleeful giggle flowed out of her thrilled smile. She looked back down and saw Peter flying toward her, circling around her. Margaret laughed as she began to spin around, her nightgown trailing behind.

Soon, she and Peter slowed down to a stop. They were particularly high above Neverland and were surrounded by billions of stars.

Margaret looked at Peter, who floated up in front of her. "What was that for?"

"You said that you wanted to get a closer look at the stars. Your wish it, I grant it."

Margaret giggled, smiling playfully. "Why thank you for granting me my wish, Mr. Pan."

Peter wore the same smile she wore also. "Oh, it was my pleasure, Miss . . . Uh, what's your other name?"

Margaret giggled again. "Benson."

Peter looked at her in disbelief. "Really?" Margaret nodded, her smile grew wider. "Hmmmm . . . I don't like it."

Margaret just laughed at his comment. She took a look around her and saw all the stars up close. She was completely surrounded by so many stars. "Wow, this is amazing!"

For a moment, Margaret did nothing but gazed at each of the stars. Suddenly, she felt a hand grabbing her hand and another placed on her hip. She looked to find Peter in the same position as they were when they were on the ground.

"What are you doing, Peter?"

"Well, if I can't dance on the ground, I bet I can up here."

"How can you dance in the sky."

Peter didn't answer. Instead, he started moving them slowly forward and then backward. He shift from side to side and twirled both he and Margaret around in circles. Before long, they were flying all over the enchanted land below, dancing away accompanied by the stars and nearby clouds.

"Does that answer your question," Peter asked her.

Margaret didn't speak. She was too speechless. Everything was so beautiful. Her eyes stopped when they landed on Peter's face. The moonlight illuminated Peter's dark eyes, a sparkle shone in them. He softly smiled at her and his fiery hair danced on his head from the wind. Her eyes couldn't look away. It was as if her eyes were locked into Peter's eyes. Margaret's mind fell blank again and only stared at him, smiling as she gazed at him. She never noticed how attractive Peter's face was. And, without her knowing, and without knowing himself, Peter was thinking the same thing about her.

For a long time, Peter and Margaret did nothing but gaze at each other and exchanging soft smiles, dancing mechanically all over the sky. Nothing disturbed or interrupted them. They were at peace, but they had no idea what was happening. They just allowed whatever was happening now to happen.

Soon, Margaret slowly lay her head on Peter's shoulder, feeling very tired.

"You know what, Peter?" she spoke softly and sleepily.

"What?"

"I've never had this much fun in my entire life."

*****"Captain," Smee whispered against Captain Hook's cabin door. He knew that he wasn't suppose to wake up the captain this late at night. But it was extremely important for the captain to see something, before it was too late.

"Pssst, oh captain," he whispered louder. He waited for a moment. Then, he suddenly banged his fist against the door. "Hey captain, wake up," he shouted. "I need to tell you something! Something very important!"

While he had said all that, Hook finally opened the door, only to have Smee punch him repeatedly, Smee thinking he was still knocking at the door and not his captain.

At last, Hook grabbed Smee's knocking fist before it made another punch and slowly lowered it down. Smee looked up to see his captain, wearing his undergarment, his forest green blanket wrapped around him, and clutching a teddy bear with a scar across the left eyes button and a tiny hook on the right arm.

Smee chuckled nervously, for Hook was giving him a hard cold glare, waiting silently for an explanation to Smee's interruption.

"Oh, captain! Good, you're up! And might I say, you look positively colorful this evening!"

Hook just stared at him with a deep frown and very dark eyes that carried several bags under them.

Noticing the captain not responding, Smee decided to hit straight to his reason.

"Um, yes, well, I know you had ordered us all to never disturb you while you are sleeping. But there is something very, very important you need to see!"

"Could it have waited until morning," Hook mumbled dangerously, thinking how wonderful it would be for him to cut Smee's throat with his extremely sharp hook.

Smee swallowed, getting more nervous by the second. "Uh, no sir, captain, sir! It would already be too late! Please come and see! You must!

"Give me one good reason why I should," Hook commanded coldly.

"Well, uh you see, it's, well, it's about Peter Pan."

Hook's eyes suddenly widened, unknowingly dropping his teddy bear.

"What?" Hook whispered, completely forgetting his anger toward Smee.

"Yes, yes, Red-Handed Jack spotted him up in the sky with his lady friend! He said that he saw something very interesting about Peter Pan that you should see for yourself! Immediately!"

Without another word, Hook dropped his blanket, marched out of his cabin and hurried to the watch tower, located at one corner of the fort. Smee, realizing what the captain was still wearing, rapidly scurried inside the cabin and ran out, carrying the captain's scarlet coat.

Once he arrived, Hook went straight to the bamboo-made elevator and waited impatiently. Smee dashed into the elevator and quickly put the coat on Hook, who wrapped it tightly around his body. Smee closed the small door behind him, gripped on a nearby rope, and pulled it hard but gently and quickly. By doing this, the rope pulled the elevator up, carrying Smee and Hook up to the top of the watch tower. Once they made it, Hook instantly took off, leaving a very exhausted Smee behind. He was breathing harshly, gasping for air. He wiped his sweaty forehead, accidentally knocking his hat off of his head. Realizing this, he ran to his hat and retrieved it . . . only to find out that he had let go of the rope.

Smee froze. "Uh oh."

Before he knew it, or even attempted to move, the elevator suddenly dropped all the way down, crashing onto the bottom.

All was silent until a faint, but slightly pained voice called out. "I'm okay!"

Meanwhile, Hook found Red-Handed Jack, who was looking up in the sky with his telescope, and rushed up to him.

Red-Handed Jack caught sight of the approaching captain. "Captain, thar ye be! Look wha' I found!"

He handed the telescope to Hook and pointed up in the sky. "They be right o'er thar!"

Hook held up the telescope and took a look through it.

There, through the telescope, was a sight Hook never thought he would ever see in his entire life. It was certainly Peter Pan himself. He was with his new lady friend, the same one who was part of that whole prank Peter pulled on him this morning. Hook flinched at the memory of that morning.

What caught Hook's attention the most was the look on Peter's image. He was holding his lady friend very close to him. The girl had her head on his shoulder, her eyes closed. They held each other while they slowly spun around in the sky.

Hook studied Peter Pan's face. He could see the boy's face so calm and relaxed, something Hook has never seen the boy like that before. He was use to watching the boy wearing the appearance of a carefree, adventure-seeking, cocky boy, who would rather spend all his time having fun forever. But never, in his whole life on this island, has Hook ever seen the arrogant, fun-loving Peter Pan look so peaceful, still, and . . . vulnerable.

Hook slowly lowered the telescope, an evil and scheming smile making its way across his shadowed chin.

"So, Pan," Hook muttered to himself. "You've finally got yourself a weakness. On that little lady friend of yours."

He shrank the telescope and handed it over to Red-Handed Jack. "Call in an emergency meeting and make sure to keep the racket down," he ordered the pirate, his eyes still on the floating couple, oblivious to what Hook has in store for them.

"I think it's time for all of us to . . . personally meet Peter Pan's new lass."

*****Peter didn't know how long they floated around in the air. He felt maybe an hour or more. Both were comfortably quiet, holding each other the whole time. It was all so peaceful and relaxing, Peter had to admit. He had never done something like this before and it felt really nice. Though he was getting sleepy.

He looked down at Margaret, who's head was still on his shoulder, her eyes closed. She hadn't moved from that position for a while. Peter wondered if she was getting tired as he was.

"Margaret," he whispered in her ears. She didn't respond. "Margaret," he tried again. Still, nothing.

He raised his hand and softly gripped her shoulder, shaking it slightly to awake her. "Margaret? Are you still awake?"

The only answer Margaret let out was a soft and drowsy moan, proving that she had fallen asleep.

Peter smirked as he wrapped his arm under her legs and wrapped another around her back, carrying her bridal style. "Come on, Margaret. It's time for bed."

Making sure not to go too fast, he flew back down to Neverland, clutching sleeping Margaret in his arms. He never noticed a doll falling out of Margaret's night robe pocket, disappearing into the forest.

Soon, Peter had arrived to Hangman Jr.'s Tree. He flew down from one of the hidden entrances and landed his feet on the ground.

It was as if he had never left. All the boys were still asleep in their hammocks (they were even snoring like pigs). Margaret's puppy was also asleep, cuddled up next to Tootles.

Peter, still carrying Margaret, walked to the bear rug, but stopped. His eyes glanced at his bed. For some reason, he felt awful for having Margaret sleep on the floor, the only warmth found in the fur of the rug.

Without another thought, Peter walked over to his bed, pulled the covers back by using his foot, and carefully placed Margaret on his bed. He pulled the covers over her, making sure she was warm and comfortable under it.

His eyes soon fell upon her face. She held the same face she had the first time he saw her back in London. She still contained all those wonderful things that drew Peter to stare at her for a long time. He remembered everything with her, from London to tonight. He smiled at the memories of her. She was defiantly different than Wendy or Jane.

Once again, he held his hand and touched his cheek, where Margaret had numerously kissed on. He remembered where he tried to return a kiss on her cheek, but, instead, it landed on her lips. Thinking back, he had to admit it had felt strange, gross, and yet . . . kind of nice.

And, since Margaret's asleep, Peter thought he could try again without accidentally falling onto her lips like last time.

He slowly leaned forward, very cautious and hesitant. He didn't want to wake her, or possibly kiss her again. He paused for a moment, unsure if he should do it.

Finally, he quickly kissed her cheek and pulled back, observing her to see if she will awake.

The only thing Margaret did was grin very slightly.

Peter let out a relieved sigh he didn't know he was holding. He stood up, feeling proud of himself. He stared at Margaret one last time.

"Good-night, Margaret," Peter whispered to her before he went over to the bear rug and fell fast asleep.


	9. Ch8 Skull Rock

**Chapter 8:**

**Skull Rock**

Margaret's eyes slowly fluttered open, her mind awakening from a long and peaceful slumber. She stretched her body and yawned. She had the most wonderful dream last night. Peter Pan was in her dream. He took her with him through the second star to the right and arrived to Neverland, bringing Little along with them. She and Peter played a prank on Captain Hook, she met the Lost Boys, and she was almost killed by Tinker Bell, causing Peter to banish the fairy. He and the Lost Boys took Margaret, in her dream, to their secret underground hideout called, Hangman Jr.'s Tree. Then, Peter took her around Neverland, showing her all kinds of amazing things on the enchanted island. Once they came back, they and the Lost Boys (plus Little) ate a make-believe feast and had Margaret sing them a lullaby. Then, her dream revealed her and Peter outside at night, on the tree, above the lake surface, and up in the night sky.

It was the most incredible dream she had ever had. She couldn't wait to tell Little and Grandmum about it.

Still thinking of her dream, she reached over and clutched her Peter Pan doll closer to her-

Wait, there was no Peter Pan doll in her arms. Only empty air.

Margaret panicked, quickly rising up from her bed and scanning her room. Only it looked nothing like her room. Her toys were no longer there, her window was no longer there, and there were loud snoring coming from the hammocks-

It was as if a light switched suddenly turned on. Her dream. It really wasn't a dream. It actually happened to her. She _had_ met Peter Pan, she _is_ in Neverland, and everything truly did happen. She glanced over to the hammocks to see the Lost Boys still asleep. She spotted Little in Tootles' arms, still in her position as last night.

Margaret looked around the hideout, searching for Peter. But he was nowhere to be found. Suddenly, she realized that she was on Peter's bed and had slept on it when Peter himself made it clear that no one was to touch his bed, let alone sleep in it.

How did she even get into Peter's bed. The last thing she remembered was dancing with Peter in the night sky. She didn't know what happened after that. She probably assumed that Peter carried her here. But then, if that was true, then where is Peter?

Margaret looked over to Peter's chair, where it stood empty and lonely. Then, a thought occurred. The bear rug. She crawled to the end of the bed and looked down.

Sure enough, there was Peter, sleeping on top of the bear rug. Margaret smiled. He still wore the same look he had last night, when it was he who lay on his bed, not Margaret.

A thought came into her mind. _Did Peter lay me on his bed?_ It would seem possible. But just the thought of Peter carrying her caused Margaret to blush again (only to scowl at herself for blushing way too much. She has got to stop doing that).

Peter stirred a little, mumbling in his sleep. Margaret just shook her head, smiling at him. She thought that maybe he would like to sleep with her Peter doll, since she no longer needed it for now.

She looked at one side of her, then looked at the other side. Her eyes searched the entire bed. No Peter doll in sight.

Margaret frowned. Where could it be?

Then she remembered that she had placed it in her night robe pocket. She dug her hand in one pocket, only to feel nothing. She tried the other pocket. To her horror, it was empty too.

Panicking, Margaret jumped off of the bed and looked under the bed. Seeing no doll, she quickly threw the covers back and searched the bed again. Her doll was nowhere to be seen.

"No, no, no! Where could it be," Margaret muttered desperately. What could have happened for her to lost her doll? She could not lose her doll. It was the most precious toy she has ever had in the whole world. Besides Little, her doll was the only connection of her home she had brought to Neverland. She never slept without it (until last night). It was given to her by Mum. Margaret wondered how special the doll had been to Mum as a child. What would she think it she found out that her daughter had lost her old, but precious doll? Margaret felt guilty just thinking about it.

Seeing no Peter Pan doll anywhere in the hideout, Margaret was forced to calm herself down and think back to where she had last saw her doll. She remembered leaving her doll in her pocket before she went outside last night. Could she have lost it outside?

Margaret decided to look for her doll outside, knowing that the sun would have risen, making it easier for her to find her missing doll. Not wanting to wake up the boys and Little (believing Margaret could find her doll alone), Margaret silently tiptoed to the exit and crawled outside.

She was immediately greeted by the morning sunlight and the chirps of the morning birds. The sun was halfway over the ocean, slowly preparing itself to rise above Neverland.

Margaret wanted to stay and enjoy the warm and sunny morning that was so different than London's morning, but she had to find her doll before it was lost forever.

She ran into the forest and scanned the ground for any sight of a mini Peter Pan. She searched through wild bushes, behind and inside logs, under branches, everywhere. However, there was still no sign of her Peter Pan doll.

Margaret paused to catch her breath. She looked around the forest, not sure where to go next. Her doll could be anywhere in this whole island. For all she knew, her doll might have already been found by someone else, hiding it from her. Perhaps she should have asked for Peter's help instead of doing it herself.

Right before Margaret turned to walk back to Hangman Jr.'s Tree in misery and defeat, her eyes caught a glance of a small figure, lying on top of a smooth and grounded rock. The figure had red, messy hair and wore green hat and outfit-

Wait a minute.

Margaret stepped forward to get a closer look.

There, right before her, was her Peter Pan doll, sitting patiently for her on the rock. Joy filled her heart at finally finding her doll. A suspicious thought entered in her mind though, warning her that finding her doll was too easy and someone may have intended for her to find it. But Margaret pushed it to the back of her head as she reached out her hand toward her doll, planning on retrieving it.

Suddenly, the doll quickly pulled back and disappeared into the bushes. Margaret froze, bewildered, before she went after her doll.

She pushed the bushes away and, after spotting her doll, again reached for it. However, the doll was, once again, pulled away from her. Without a thought, and ignoring warnings that set off in her head, Margaret chased after her doll.

But no matter how close she got to her doll, it only moved farther away from her and was dragged further into the forest. Margaret didn't see where she was going or how far she had gotten. Her only concern was on retrieving her small doll.

Margaret chased after her doll for a full minute or two. And still, it was like the doll refused to be taken by her.

Finally, getting tired of the chase, Margaret jumped forward and quickly grabbed her doll before it could escape again.

She got up, bringing her doll close to her. She felt her doll struggling to escape from her hands. Puzzled, she looked over her doll for anything strange about it. Her eyes caught an almost invisible string attached to the doll's back. The string's other end disappeared behind a bush.

Margaret thought of cutting the string off her doll, but she was curious on who was trying to steal her doll.

She wrapped her hand around the string, her other hand gripping firmly on her doll. Then, with all he strength, her string-wrapped hand gripped the string and pulled forcefully toward her.

What she saw next took her by surprise. The other end of the string came out of the bush alright. But it wasn't the only thing being pulled out of hiding. Grabbing on the string was a small, very plump man. He had a big nose and snowy white sideburns. He wore a blue-stripped shirt, tiny half-circled glasses, sandals, and a red nightcap.

The man looked funny looking to Margaret, but also very familiar.

Because of Margaret's rough pull on the string, the plump man was pulled out of his hiding spot and was dragged face down toward Margaret, still gripping on the string. The plump man was motionless for a moment, his full front of his body buried in the ground, including his face.

Soon, his face slowly rose up, his eyes landing on Margaret, who stared at him with a weird look.

The plump man chuckled nervously. "Top of the morning, madam," he said, raising his nightcap in greeting.

Suddenly, a name came to Margaret. A name that, not only identify the plump man, but had her recall a certain character, in Grandmum's stories, that was Captain Hook's right hand man.

"Mr. Smee?"

She looked back at her doll and the string attached to its back. Why would Mr. Smee go through the trouble on attaching a string on her doll and drag it away from her, as if leading her into a trap-

"Wait a second."

All of a sudden, a giant net, hidden under Margaret's feet, shot up, carrying her inside, until it was high above the ground. Margaret, caught by surprise and horror, tried to release herself from the net, only to become even more tangled inside. She soon stopped, admitting herself that it was no use. She was trapped.

She cursed herself again for her stupidity, this time for falling into a trap.

Margaret heard a group of laughter coming from below her. She looked down to see pirates coming out of their hiding places from the forest, all gathering under her and staring at her. They laughed and pointed at her as if it was hilarious to see a tangled up, little girl, trying to escape their trap they had cleverly laid out for her.

They all suddenly fell silent when their captain came out of the forest, walking toward the trapped net, like a king walking down the throne room.

He looked up at Margaret with an evil and proud smile. Margaret silently gave him an angry glare, refusing to show him, or any of the pirates, how terrified she really was inside.

"Well, well, well, look what we have here, men," Hook proclaimed, pulling out his sword and pointing the tip of it toward Margaret. "It seems that, instead of a pig, we caught ourselves something even better: Peter Pan's lovely lass!"

Few of the pirates wolf whistled, making Margaret feel uncomfortable.

"Now, what's a lady like you doing all by yourself out in the dark and lonely forest?" Hook asked Margaret.

She stayed silent, continuing to glare at him.

Hook glanced over to a pirate, who was standing closer to the forest. He was holding onto a rope that held the net up. "Put her down slightly, so that we can take a closer look at our new prisoner."

Margaret winched at being called 'prisoner'.

The pirate nodded as he slowly lowered the net until it stopped to where her head was the same level as the captain's. Margaret was forced to fully face Hook's gleeful face. She looked away, but Hook used his hook hand to turn her face toward him.

Hook studied Margaret's face (much to her discomfort). "Mmmmm, your features seems so . . . familiar. Where have I seen them before?"

His eyes abruptly widened with realization. "Oh, now I know! From Wendy's daughter! Or perhaps Wendy herself! Do you, by chance, know them closely?"

_A lot closely than you think_, Margaret thought to herself, not even attempting to say it out loud.

"Captain," Mr. Smee piped out. "Maybe this girl is Wendy's daughter, too. Or maybe her daughter's daughter?"

Hook placed his hook on his chin in thought, staring straight at Margaret. "Perhaps you're right, Smee. But she couldn't possibly be Wendy's daughter. So, this lass here must be Jane's daughter! Now, what's your name, little lassie?" He asked Margaret.

"Margaret Anne Rose Benson," she growled at Hook.

"Ah, a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Benson," Hook said. "I believe you already know who I am."

Margaret smirked. "Yes. You're Mr. Codfish."

Hook's smile dropped to a scowl. A few snickers passed along the pirates, only to shut up at Hook's glare.

"I see you have been hanging with Pan too much," Hook muttered to Margaret.

"What are you going to do to me," Margaret demanded, wanting to show them she wasn't afraid, when she was on the inside.

Hook's menacing smile returned, staring deep into Margaret's eyes. "Oh, don't worry, Ms. Benson. We have big plans for you and your beloved, Peter Pan."

***PPIII***

When Peter woke up, he immediately knew that something was wrong. He scanned the underground hideout, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. He jumped up from the bear rug and looked over to his bed to check on Margaret.

That was when he found out what was wrong: Margaret was missing. Again.

His bed was empty; the cover was all messed up, almost off to the side of the bed. Peter looked around the hideout again, seeing no sign of Margaret. She must have sneaked out again.

Peter shook his head. "That girl just can't stay still," he mumbled to himself.

After checking the boys and the puppy, still asleep, he flew out of the hideout, through the ceiling exit, and began searching for Margaret, fearing the possible dangers Margaret could land herself into.

***PPIII***

Skull Rock was the scariest sight Margaret had ever seen. She could tell how it got the name: it was in the shape of the largest skull in history. The clouds darkened over Skull Rock, as if the sight of the skull frightened the sunlight away. Because of this, the dark sky gave Skull Rock a very frightening look. Waves helplessly crashed against it, and two or three sea gulls flew over Skull Rock.

It was just as Grandmum had described the place in her stories.

Margaret watched in fear as the boat she was in approached to Skull Rock. She was bound and gagged, sitting in one of the two pirate rowboats. The other rowboat, which was leading the one that has Margaret, was Hook up at front and a few pirates with him. On the one Margaret sat was another few pirates, with Mr. Smee rowing the boat.

Margaret looked behind her to see Neverland far away, as was her hope of rescue.

She turned around just in time to see the two boats going through the mouth of Skull Rock. Intense fear grew inside Margaret as her boat was swallowed inside.

It wasn't completely dark inside, though there really wasn't much to see. They came upon a cavern that looked more like the inside of a giant, rounded volcano. Margaret looked behind her and saw two large holes high up on the wall, assuming they were the eyes of Skull Rock, and a hole under them, indicating the entrance, welcoming waters of the ocean from outside.

Hook's boat rowed over to the 'beach' made of rocks. He and his pirates jumped off of the boat and the pirates pulled their boat out of the waters and behind a large rock to hide it.

The other boat, the one Margaret occupied, sailed over to the back wall of Skull Rock. There were two chains against it and they were chained around both wrists of an old and wet skeleton. Margaret's eyes widened in horror at the sight of the very much dead skeleton. The pirates on that boat only smirked at the skeleton as they unlocked the chains, allowing the skeleton to sink into the waters.

Margaret gulped uneasily, having an assumption on what they were going to do to her.

And her assumption was proven right when the pirates untied her, pulled her out of the boat, and chained her wrists against the wall.

To her relief, the waters were just up to her mid-stomach. She felt a bump against the wall deep underwater, so she placed her feet on it to stand on, so she could keep the chains from bruising her wrists even more.

The boat sailed away, leaving her alone. She took the moment to figure out how to escape. But, all too soon, the boat returned. Only this time, it was only Mr. Smee rowing the boat toward her. The rest of the pirates must have joined the others.

Mr. Smee was cheerfully singing a pirate song while he rowed his boat over the chained Margaret.

"_Ohh, a pirate's life is a wonderful life _

_They never bury yer bones, _

_But when it's all over _

_A jolly sea rover _

_Drops in on his friend Davy Jones, _

_Ohh, his very good friend Davy Jones" _

Margaret just stared at the plump pirate as he reached over her and pulled the gag off of her. Margaret coughed out and took in a deep breath.

"Alright now," Mr. Smee said. "You may begin!"

Margaret gave him a strange look. "Begin what?"

"You know, shouting for help, calling for Peter Pan to come and rescue you!"

"Why would I do that?"

"So Peter Pan can come flying in and attempt to rescue you. But Captain Hook is preparing to kill him as soon as he comes!" He paused for a moment. "Maybe I shouldn't have told you that."

"What," Margaret exclaimed. "Are you saying that you're using me as _bait_ to capture Peter?"

"And kill him, yes," Mr. Smee said in a happy tone, as if it was all just a fun game. "Now, go ahead and scream out for Peter Pan!"

"No," Margaret retorted. "I'm not going to bring Peter into a trap!"

"But if you don't, the water will rise and it won't be long until you're completely underwater." Just as he said that, a huge wave from the outside entered in, causing the waters to rise up. Now the water level was up to Margaret's chest. Terror increased inside of her as she struggled to yank the chains out from the wall. When it didn't work, she groaned in frustration.

"So, I guess you better call for Peter Pan now!" Mr. Smee said. Margaret only gave him a cold glare and stuck out her chin, refusing to cry for Peter's help. But she couldn't help the horror of the possibility of being drowned to death. She had to think of a way to escape without involving Peter.

***PPIII***

Peter flew all over Neverland, searching everywhere for Margaret. But there were so sign of her anywhere. He had asked the Indians if they have seen her, but they answered no. Against his bitter judgment, he went over and asked the mermaids if they saw her. But they told him they haven't, before flirting with him. He looked all over the forest, the Never Peaks, the beaches, everywhere. But Peter could not find Margaret.

Anxiety for her grew intensively. He could not lose her in a fantasy world that she has never been in before. He had promised Wendy he wouldn't let anything happen to her and he was determined not to break that promise. He just needed to find Margaret before it was too late.

Lastly, he checked at Fort Buccaneer, fearing that the pirates might have kidnapped her and taken her there. But, to his surprise, the whole fort was completely empty. Not one pirate can be seen there, not even at the watchtowers. Even their beach was absolutely deserted-

Peter did a double look. Their boats. They vanished too. Which means all the pirates are out at sea. But where could they have gone to? They couldn't have left Neverland, or any boundaries over Skull Rock.

Skull Rock.

Peter never thought to check there. In a flash, Peter zoomed across the sky and toward Skull Rock.

He stopped against the outside wall next to the left eye of Skull Rock and peeked in. He could see small glimpses of the pirates' heads and Hook's feathered hat over the rocks they were hiding. Peter scanned the whole area and saw, to his shock, Margaret chained against the back wall. What's worse, the water surface was up to her chest. Suddenly, a wave approached, causing the waters to rise higher. Now the surface was up to her neck. Margaret struggled to free herself from the chains on her wrists, while trying to stay above waters.

Peter knew he was running out of time. He had to save her before the waters consume her. But how, when the pirates were watching her. Especially Mr. Smee who, Peter noticed, was floating by her on a rowboat.

Peter rubbed his chin, thinking of a plan to distract the pirates. He snapped his fingers when he came up with an idea. He flew down to the 'mouth' of Skull Rock and, cupping his hands around his mouth, he let out a loud ticking noise.

***PPIII***

All of a sudden, a loud, echoed ticking jingle erupted all over the cave.

Mr. Smee jumped at the noise and looked around him, searching for the source of the ticking. Margaret looked around too, but, just like Mr. Smee, she didn't see anything.

Suddenly, a screech was heard from the rocks. "IT'S BACK," it shouted, sounding very much like Captain Hook himself. "IT'S COMING TO GET ME! SMEEEEEEEEEEE!"

"Coming, captain," Mr. Smee called out as he quickly rowed his boat away from Margaret and toward where the screeching was coming from.

Margaret waited for a moment, the ticking sound still continuing. Then, she quickly tugged the chains on her wrists, desperate for them to release her. But it only bruised her wrists all the more.

Margaret became petrified. Anytime now, the waters will swallow her up and she will perish just like that poor skeleton before her. She looked everywhere, anxious to find at least one hope of her being rescued. If only Peter was here to save her like last time. But she knew she could not bring him into a trap. She would rather perish than hurt Peter.

The ticking noise suddenly grew louder and louder, as if coming closer and closer to her. Margaret's fright grew even more, until it reached to its peak. She didn't know what could be worse: drowning or being eaten by a ticking crocodile.

She spotted a silhouette on the water surface slowly approaching to her. Margaret moved as far back as she could (which wasn't even far, ending up against the wall).

She then sighed in defeat, fearing that her end has come. She thought of everything in her past, as if all her memories flashed before her eyes. She thought of her dear puppy, Little, who would be devastated to hear of her owner's death. She thought of her wonderful Grandmum, who would possibly have a heart attack once she receives the news of her granddaughter's death. She thought of her loving, but strict mother, who Margaret had admitted that she had regretted spending her last moments with Mum in a furious argument. She thought of her father, who she hoped she will see him once she is delivered to the first star on the left. She thought of the precious Lost Boys, who have been quite an amusement to her from the very beginning.

And, lastly, she thought of Peter Pan. His smile, his eyes, his spirit, his arrogance, his charm, his playfulness, his laugh, his comfort, his warmth.

His kiss.

Without warning, the waters rapidly rose higher over her head, blocking her from the air above. She held as much air as she could, but knew it wouldn't be enough to survive more than a minute.

A hand covered her mouth and Margaret released startling air bubbles from her nose, already losing her air supply. Her eyes popped open to see, right in front of her, Peter Pan, swimming in front of her with his hand on her mouth.

And that was when she knew. It was Peter who was making the ticking sound to distract the pirates. She should have known.

She smiled against his hand and he gave her a smirk and a wink. He pulled out his dagger and swam up to the surface. After looking around, to see no pirates in sight, he stabbed his dagger into the lock of one chain that held Margaret's right wrist. He twisted his dagger a while until it turned and the chain unlocked, freeing Margaret's right wrist.

Margaret smiled, pulling her right wrist underwater. But, suddenly, her heart was beating faster and she was getting light headed. What's worse, her body was getting extremely desperate for air.

Panicking, she tugged on Peter's tunic. As if he got the message, he quickly stabbed his dagger into the other lock of the chain holding Margaret's left chain, twisting around as fast as he could.

Margaret couldn't help but release the last of her air supply up into the surface. Now, she was helpless of any air and was coming close to the edge of unconsciousness.

At last, the chain unlocked, freeing Margaret's left wrist. Peter rapidly put his dagger back to his small scabbard, wrapped his arms around Margaret, and zoomed out of the waters just in time. Once Margaret came into the open air, she gasped for much needed air and coughed out unwanted water.

Peter landed on top of the rocks at the edge of the waters and stepped back, his arms still around her. Margaret held onto Peter for support. She didn't think she had the strength to stand on her own. She coughed out for a few moments and breathed in sharply.

_That was a close one_, they both thought at the same time.

"You okay," Peter asked her, concern for her clearly written on his face.

Margaret coughed as she tried to reply. "I think so."

Peter then gave her a hearty smile, attempting to make the situation cheerful. "Well, that's what you get for wandering around alone."

Margaret rolled her eyes, but her mind alerted her of the pirates who were still here. That was when she remembered why she was here in the first place.

She suddenly gripped on Peter's shoulders. "Peter, you have to get out of here!"

"Gee, and I thought you would be happy to see me-"

"No, Peter, you don't understand! You NEED to leave! It's a trap!"

Just then, a gun shot was heard. They jumped in surprise and looked over to where it came from.

"YOU MISSED," a voice shrieked from behind the boulders, obviously belonging to Hook. "HOW COULD YOU HAVE MISSED? HE WAS STANDING RIGHT THERE! YOU COULD HAVE BLOWN OUR COVER!"

"Uh, captain," a smaller voice that sounded a lot like Mr. Smee spoke. "I think you already did that."

There was a long awkward pause. Taking the chance, Peter stepped in front of Margaret and hid her behind him, his eyes narrowed on the stones.

Finally, Hook stepped out of from the shadows with an evil grin, pulling his sword out. "Ah, Peter Pan. I see you've finally had the guts to show up. I should have known it was you making that ticking noise again. It's a shame; if only the crocodile would have taken you with him."

"Yeah, well, you know what they say: you can't have everything you want." As Peter said that, Margaret was attempting to move around Peter, feeling like a hopeless girl being protected by Peter Pan. But Peter pushed her back, trying not to show his frustrations toward Margaret to Hook.

"But I will get what I want," Hook's devil grin grew wider, his eyes turning to Margaret. "And I'll get it through that pretty little girl of yours."

Before Margaret could respond to that comment, Peter swiftly pulled out his dagger, pointing the sharp end of it straight at Hook, his face suddenly stony. "You leave her out of this! This is between you and me!"

"Yes, but, like every visitors you bring to this pathetic island, she's stuck right in the middle of the crossroad between you and me. So," Hook continued as he pointed his sword at Peter and stepped forward, causing Peter to move backward, pushing Margaret back until the water touched her cold feet. "She either leaves . . . or she becomes mine."

In a flash, Peter flew after Hook, stabbing his dagger at him. But Hook swiftly moved away and struck his rapier at the flying boy, only to collide his blade against Hook's cutlass. A fight between Hook and Pan had begun again.

Margaret watched as Peter and Hook faced each other with their weapons. She had never seen a sword fight like this before. Peter took advantage on his flying abilities by circling Hook and attacking him with his tiny sword. Hook, meanwhile, kept angrily slashing his sword at Peter, only to miss the boy repeatedly.

As she observed the battle, Margaret had the strongest nerve to join in the fight. But she had no sword or any kind of weapon. She looked down and spotted a small rock. She picked it up and, without a second thought, she threw the rock at Hook.

The rock ended up hitting Hook's top head, knocking off his fancy hat to the ground. Hook growled as he picked it up. Using this as a distraction, Peter rapidly flew behind Margaret, wrapped his arms around her waist, and carried her high up. He landed them on a cliff against the wall and hid them both into the darkness.

"AFTER THEM," Hook shouted. The pirates' roar echoed throughout the cave.

"What are you doing," Peter whispered to Margaret, gripping her shoulders protectively.

"What does it look like? I'm helping you out!"

"I don't need help," Peter said harshly. "I don't need anyone's help!"

"Well, someday, you're gonna need help from someone sooner or later! You can't always do things on your own!"

Before Peter could retort to that, the howls of the pirates were getting closer and closer.

"Listen, Margaret. Get out of here," Peter ordered her as he gave her a sack of pixie dust. "Here, you'll need this. Fly far away from here. I'll take care of these codfishes."

"No, I'm not leaving you! I can fight them!"

"You don't even have a weapon with you," Peter reminded her.

Margaret opened her mouth, but closed it, realizing that he was right. She was completely defenseless. Unless she could steal a sword from one of the pirates, there was nothing else she could do but do as Peter said.

"Fine," Margaret muttered angrily. Peter just nodded at her. He ran out from the shadows and jumped off of the cliff. The next thing she knew, she heard the clanging of two swords together.

Margaret crossed her arms stubbornly, standing very still. She heard the clashing of the swords, Peter's cheery laugh, and Hook's furious growl, tempting her more to join in the fight. She forgot all about the bag of pixie dust she held in her hand. She also forgot the approaching pirates that were ready to slice her like a fish.

"Thar she be!"

Margaret turned to see the whole army of armed pirates climbing up, narrowed at her. Without another thought, she ran the opposite direction.

She heard the snarl of the pirates behind her, causing her to run faster. However, it was difficult for her to run all the way down from the cliff when there are too many rocks in her way and she had to climb over them, only slowing her down.

When she climbed on top of a boulder, she looked over her shoulder to spot one of the meaner pirates closing in on her. She frantically looked around and found no other easy way to escape.

Margaret looked down to try to find a small rock to throw at them when she saw the sack of pixie dust in her hand. Desperately, she opened the bag and pour pixie dust on her hand, flinging it toward her face. After sneezing from the golden dust, she quickly thought of the first happy thought that came to her mind: her moonlight dance with Peter.

"Ah ha!" a voice interrupted Margaret. She looked down and saw the advancing pirate ready to strike her. "Now I got ye!"

Reflexively, Margaret did a floating back flip, kicking the pirate from under his chin hard, causing him to fall back unconscious. Landing back on the boulder, she stared down at the insensible pirate, completely shocked at what she had just done.

And it felt good.

Her head rose up for her to see more pirates coming her way, swords at ready. They suddenly transformed into the V Gang from back home right before her eyes.

And that was when she smirked. Those pirates weren't any different than the V Gang. She could absolutely take them all by herself.

She swept over the ground and landed high against the wall. There, a giant boulder sat at the top of a rocky hill, trapped behind two rocks. That gave her an idea.

Margaret turned to the pirates, who dashed by her, never noticing where she was.

"Hey!" she shouted at them. The pirates halted and their heads turned around, seeing her fly up and settled on top of the boulder. "Looking for me?"

"CHARGE!" a fat pirate bellowed. All of the pirates hollowed as they ran straight toward Margaret, climbing over passing rocks in their way.

Seeing them approaching, Margaret swiftly picked up one of the two rocks blocking the giant boulder and threw it away. Once she did the same to the second rock, the boulder started to wobble. Margaret helped it by pushing it with all her might.

The huge boulder fell from its resting place and rolled downhill in the direction of the gang of pirates. Once the pirates looked up, their eyes widened.

"RETREAT!" a short pirate screamed. Screaming in fear, they all scurried down, trying to run away from the boulder. Unfortunately, the boulder ran into the majority of the pirates and carried them with it as the boulder rolled off and fell into the waters. Now, there were only about five pirates left to deal with the girl.

Margaret searched the ground around her feet and spotted a small, round rock. She picked it up, gripped it tightly, aimed at one of the surviving pirates, and threw her rock.

The rock zoomed across and hit directly at one of the pirate's head. His eyes rolled around in dizziness and fell flat on the ground, out cold. Margaret giggled to herself.

Now there were only four pirates left, chasing after her again. But Margaret stood still, smirking as if she knew something that they didn't. One of the pirates, the one wearing earrings and very few teeth, made it to Margaret first and sliced his sword at her.

However, Margaret jumped up before the sword touched her. She flew over the pirate and landed between him and another pirate. Not seeing the other pirate, the earring pirate readied his fist and prepared to punch her. She turned around and saw the other pirate doing the same. Just when they were about to hit her, Margaret ducked and pulled away, causing the two pirates to punch themselves and knock themselves unconscious.

Now there was only one more pirate to get rid of. And this pirate looked more stronger and meaner than the other stupid pirates. Margaret really needed to think on how to get rid of this muscular pirate.

The strong pirate growled at her, swinging his sword at her, trying to slice her. But every time, Margaret moved away from the sword, backing up. This kept going until her back was up against the wall. The strong pirate laughed evilly at her, dramatically raised his sword above his head, ready deliver the final blow.

Margaret eyes searched everywhere, frantically looking for possible ideas. Right when the strong pirate launched his sword, without thinking, Margaret got down, whooshed across the ground and between his legs (barely missing the sword), grabbed his pants, and pulled it up high, causing the strong pirate to hang upside-down. However, the strong pirate was a lot heavier than Margaret thought. Before she knew it, the strong pirate's pants ripped and he fell down, leaving behind a piece of his pants that Margaret gripped on. He landed head first and, after another silly dizzy moment, his whole body fell flat on the ground, falling unconscious.

Margaret grinned sheepishly. "Oops," she muttered as she dropped the piece of his pants on top of his bottom.

Seeing that all the pirates were knocked out, Margaret felt it was time for her to go, since she had had her fun, messing with those ridicules pirates. She flew up into the air and soared across the cave, through one of the Skull's eyes.

However, she stopped in midair when she hear the clanging of swords. It was then that she remembered that Peter and Hook were still battling each other. Filled with excitement and curiosity, she flew back to the eye and saw the two in the middle of sword fighting. Peter's face was beaming of sheer happiness and arrogance, as he circled the pirate captain, obviously showing off. Hook was growing more and more angrier, probably because he was fighting from the ground. He had to hop on rocks that stood up from the waters just to get closer to the boy.

Margaret smirked. She promised Peter that she wouldn't get involve. But he never said anything about watching them.

Margaret rested her arms on the bottom of the eye, leaning her head against her fist, as she watched the swordfight. She loved every second of the battle and wished she was a part of it.

Finally, Hook put his sword back in his scabbard and pulled out his pistol, pointing it straight at Peter. "That's it! This is getting me nowhere! I'll just have to blast you instead!"

Peter crossed his arms in disbelief. "You're kidding, right?"

Hook's only response was a blast from the pistol. The bullet shot right toward Peter, but he carelessly moved to the side, avoiding the bullet.

Growling, Hook fired the pistol again and again at the flying boy. But Peter missed each of them by doing cartwheels in midair, twirled away, flipping up higher, etc. Yet again, he was showing off, not caring at all. Margaret giggled in silence.

Peter flew around Hook and Hook followed him, blasting his pistol along the way. Soon, he stopped up in the air, not knowing that Margaret was right behind him. "Come on, you old codfish! Give it up! You know you can't shoot me!"

Hook, who did see Margaret behind Peter, hatched a plan, sneaking a hidden smirk on his long chin. "Who says I need to shoot you?"

Without letting Peter reply, Hook fired his pistol, aimed at Peter and, of course, Peter jumped higher into the air, laughing at Hook's failure. Margaret would have laughed too. But she didn't know of the bullet's actual target.

Instead of hitting Peter, it struck Margaret's arm.

Margaret screamed in pain, clutching her wounded arm, as she fell down to the rocky waters.

***PPIII***

Peter suddenly stopped laughing when he hear a scream that sounded oddly like Margaret.

His eyes shot wide open. That was Margaret. And she was in trouble!

Quick as a bullet, he rocketed outside, for once ignoring Hook, flew down after Margaret, and caught her just in time, never knowing how scared he really was for her.

He carried her in bridal style and carefully laid her on a large, smooth rock that sat between the waters and the edge of Skull Rock. Margaret's eyes tightened in pain, breathing deeply. She still clutched her arm, but the color red appeared around her grasped hand.

"Are you okay," Peter asked her, more worried for her than ever before. He leaned closer to her, inspecting her hidden wound.

Margaret shook her head. "It hurts."

At those words, Peter grew guilty, like a heavy burden harshly stabbing his heart. He had failed. He had failed to protect Margaret. He had failed to keep Wendy's promise. He failed two of the most important people in his life. And he had allowed Hook to hurt her.

Hook.

A fire roared alive inside him, his eyes seeing red. He felt the highest point of anger that he had never felt before. The fire inside him was flaming with intense rage and was starving for flesh to burn. And it was very clear on what the fire was telling him to do:

Seek Revenge.

Peter stood up and looked at Skull Rock where, somewhere inside, Hook was waiting for him. Waiting for a rematch.

And that's exactly what he was going to give him.

Peter prepared to jump up into midair, but, when his feet only left the ground a few inches high, he felt someone grab his wrist, pulling him down. He looked down to see Margaret holding his wrist with the same hand she had covered her wound..

"Peter," she softly said to him. "Don't do it. Please I need help. And, if I don't get help soon . . . I may not get better. Please, Peter!"

Peter stared at her eyes, her beautiful blue eyes. It was like her eyes contained water and extinguished the fire within him. He felt at ease from just gazing at her gentle eyes, pleading him to stay with her. And he automatically obeyed, sinking down to the ground.

He felt a sticky liquid on his wrist, the same one Margaret held, and remembered her open wound. He looked at her arm and saw, to his horror, a large red spot on her arm. He also saw the color red falling down on her sleeve, dripping from her hand.

Margaret was right. She needed help. And he knew exactly where to find help.

Wordlessly, he wrapped one arm around her back, another arm under her legs, and floated upward, soaring across the sky, all the while clutching Margaret against him.

He didn't see the Captain himself walking outside and smiled wickedly at the two flying away.


	10. Ch9 Second Chance

**Chapter 9**

**Second Chance**

Peter, the Lost Boys, and Little (sitting on Peter's lap), sat around a burnt-out camp fire, settled in the center of the Indian Village, waiting for news of Margaret.

It has been almost thirty minutes since she was taken in by the Indians' Medicine Man to take care of her wound. Peter had almost crashed done into the Indian Village earlier until he quickly controlled his rapid flying. He immediately cried for help, yelling that his friend covered tightly in his arms (who fell unconscious from blood lose) needs assistance quickly. Then, the Indian Chief approached to him and, seeing the state Margaret was in, he requested for his Medicine Man and ordered him to calmly take her to his tent and heal her. Peter reluctantly passed Margaret to the Medicine Man and the Medicine Man, along with the lifeless girl in his arms, disappeared in his tent.

Eventually, the Lost Boys and Little came and Peter told them everything that happened that morning and their cheerful personality vanished into smoke and misery and concern overwhelmed them. The puppy was the worst; she wore a heartbreaking guise as she ran to the tent where her dearest owner was in. But Little was seized by Tiger Lily, the Indian princess, who wordlessly gave the devastated and struggling puppy to Peter, a sign saying no one was to enter the tent until Margaret was healed.

And there they are now, waiting as patiently as they could for any answers, hopefully good ones. Each of their faces had not change since they first heard of Margaret's condition, only their anxiety was increasing every minute. Peter's and Little's face was much worse.

Actually, Peter's face was completely blank, emotionless. The Lost Boys had never seen their leader look like that; it scared them to some extent. Even Tiger Lily, who tried to comfort Peter, backed up and walked away after seeing his face. All he did was stare at the fireplace, subconsciously petting Little, who whimpered every once in a while.

"Hey, look!" Cubby piped, pointing at the tent Margaret was in. All the boys and Little turned their heads to see Margaret herself walking out of the tent.

Every one of the Lost Boys cheered as they jumped up and ran to her. Little, with her wildly shaking tail and huge smile, barked happily and jumped off of Peter, running to join the Lost Boys. Peter, at first, didn't; his eyes were on Margaret. Finally, when he saw her surrounded by the Lost Boys (and Little trying to push through the wall the boys created around her owner again), Peter got up and slowly made his way to them, a relieved smile crawling up on his face.

Margaret, with a gigantic smile, hugged each of the Lost Boys. She wore a bandage around her arm, where she was shot earlier. After she hugged all the Lost Boys, and kissed their cheeks, she fell to her knees and opened her arms for Little. Little ran and jumped up to her, almost pushing her human friend down. She licked Margaret's face like crazy and barked joyfully, her wagging tail never ceasing.

The Lost Boys crowed around her, asking thousands of questions, such as, "Are you okay? What's that on your arm? Did you really kick a bunch of pirate's butts? Did you bring pie?"

Margaret didn't pay attention to any of them, or their questions to her. She was staring at Peter, with a gentle smile on her lovely face. Peter tried to push down the redness of his cheeks, but his eyes dropped to the ground, ashamed of himself for letting her down, blaming himself for her getting shot and breaking his promise to Wendy (and to avoid blushing again). It wasn't until he felt a body embracing him that he looked up, seeing that it was Margaret who was hugging him warmly.

Without a thought, Peter wrapped his arms around her, closing his eyes in peace and relief. It was then that he knew that Margaret is here, in his arms, and alive.

He pulled back to look at Margaret. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Peter." She gave him a peck on his cheek in gratitude. "Better than I was before." She looked down on her bandaged arm, placing her hand on it. "The stitching was a bit painful, but it obviously worked." Her eyes returned to Peter. "I should really thank your Indian friends for healing me."

"That is unnecessary," a strong, but low, voice broke in. Peter and Margaret turned to see the Indian Chief, with Tiger Lily by his side. "It is our honor and duty to aid Little Flying Eagle and his friends if they are in need of our assistance."

Tiger Lily nodded, staring admirably at Peter (much to Margaret's annoyance).

"Tonight," the Chief announced to Peter, Margaret, the Lost Boys, and Little. "We are to have a festival in remembrance of the day Little Flying Eagle saved my daughter and became part of our tribe. And it would be an honor if you all will join us."

The Lost Boys immediately said yes, accompanied with two barks from Little. However, Peter and Margaret have not answered yet.

Tiger Lily placed her hand on Peter's arm, pleading for him to stay for the festival, as well as blinking her eyes flirtingly at him. Margaret's eyes narrowed on, not just the princess' flirty eyes, but her hand gripping on his arm.

Peter thought about the Chief's proposal for a moment, then finally said, "Margaret, her puppy, and the Lost Boys can stay for the festival . . . but I can't."

Everyone as taken aback at Peter's answer. The Lost Boys started shouting questions at their leader, all asking why not (though Tootles just stared at Peter in disbelief). Little yapped repeatedly, as if asking the same thing. Margaret and Tiger Lily were gazing at the youthful boy with surprised looks, but hurt and sadness was also found on Tiger Lily's face. The Chief remain emotionless, as if Peter's answer had not affected him as it has to the others.

There was a long moment of pause, except for the Lost Boys' constant questioning. Soon, their shouting died down and there was silence.

Margaret stepped forward, staring intently at him. "Peter?"

Peter sighed and glance up at Margaret, who looked lovelier than ever.

"Margaret," Peter began. "Hook tried to kill you; he almost succeeded. What if he tries it again and I was too late to stop him? Do you know what would happen if you . . . died? Your mom and grandmom would be devastated, your puppy would be devastated, and so would the boys . . . and me. And I'll be breaking my promise to Wendy to protect you. Your . . . death . . . would be my fault. I can't let that happen. I _won't_ let that happen."

Margaret, deeply touched by his speech, asked, "But what are you going to do about it? You can't simply stop Hook from hunting me down and killing me."

Peter's eyes dropped down, his finger wrapped around his chin in thought. "Or can I," he mumbled.

"What," Margaret spoke.

Ignoring her, Peter turned fully to the Indian Chief. "Can Margaret spend the night here in your village?"

Tiger Lily gasped in horror. Margaret was shocked to, though she couldn't help but sneak in a smirk just for the jealous Indian princess.

"Of course," the Chief replied. "I'll have a tent ready for your mate only for tonight."

Peter and Margaret's cheeks burned red at the word "mate," while Tiger Lily stared at Margaret the exact same way Tinker Bell looked at the girl.

"Thanks!" Peter turned back to Margaret. "Listen, I have to do something first to make sure you'll be safe. Stay here, I'll be back."

Margaret didn't know what to say, so she nodded understandably.

Before Peter left the village, Tiger Lily pulled him back and affectionately rubbed her nose against his nose, causing his whole face to turn red. Margaret's eyes burned with raging fire and her fists tightened so hard, tiny drops of blood appeared on her hands.

Shaking his head back to normal, and giving a smile to Tiger Lily and Margaret (not seeing her murderous look), Peter jumped up into the sky and he was soon gone.

***PPIII***

Tinker Bell observed all of the Lost Things she had found on beaches this morning and thought of what she could make out of them. But no matter how hard she tried, she could not stop thinking about Peter.

It has been exactly 24 hours since the last time she saw him and it was driving her mad. She had to see him; he was her everything. She missed the sound of his laughter, she missed the way they played together everyday. She missed his youthful eyes and his charming smile and his untidy red hair too. Basically, she missed everything about Peter Pan.

She tried busying herself with her tinkering work, whatever assignment she could find. However, the image of Peter Pan took over her mind and refuse to leave her again.

Not only was she thinking about Peter, she was also thinking about that pig-faced girl, Margaret. Tink was still increasingly angry at her for stealing Peter from her and getting her banished from him. Oh how she wanted to rip that girl's heart into pieces and burn her entire body and dance happily over the girl's ashes.

But there was something deep inside her that felt very much like guiltiness and regret. After all, that girl did put all her faith in the famous Tinker Bell. And Tink had shattered her faith. A fairy was suppose to bring child-like faith and happiness to each of the children. And Tink had ruined the very girl who was so joyful to see her for the first time.

Why did it have to be the same girl who liked Peter as much as she does?

"Tinker Bell," a voice called out, interrupting her thoughts. Tink jumped in surprise, dropping a small medal screw she was holding, and quickly turned around to see Fairy Mary flying toward her, her hands on her hips. "What are you doing at this time a day?"

"Uh, just, um, tinkering?" Tink ended up saying, not intending to actually tell Fairy Mary the truth. "With the Lost Things here?"

Fairy Mary shook her head disapprovingly. "Honestly, Tinker Bell. There's a lot more work to be done and all those Lost Things are not one of them. Now, get to your station and help Clank and Bobble weave some baskets." Without waiting for Tink's reply, Fairy Mary flew off.

Tinker Bell sighed. Maybe weaving baskets would get her mind off of Peter for just a few minutes.

Reluctantly, she flew up and soared over the Tinker homeland until she reached to her station. There, Clank and Bobble were struggling on weaving a single basket and ended up arguing over something stupid (again). Tink ignored them as she gathered up a few long string leaves and began weaving them in silence.

It took the duo a while before they finally noticed Tink and how depressed she was as she did her work.

"What do you think is wrong with her," Clank asked Bobble, his voice cockney.

"Well, isn't it obvious, Clank," Bobble responded in a thick Irish accent. "She's forgotten how to weave a basket."

"She has," Clank asked in disbelief.

"Well, of course. Actually, weaving baskets aren't that difficult to make. However, they can be quite challenging when you got you mind on something else."

Tink winced at Bobble's last comment.

"Maybe her mind is on other Tinker stuff, like acorn kettles," Clank suggested.

"Now how can they be on acorn kettles, Clanky? I believe they are on all those Lost Things she found this morning."

"But what if there's nothing on her mind at all?"

Tink's annoyance grew higher and higher the more Clank and Bobble talked about her behind her back.

"What do you mean there's nothing on her mind at all?"

"What if she has forgotten how to tinker? Maybe that's why she can't weave a basket?"

"Now that is the silliest thing I have ever heard from you! And I've heard plenty from you each day!"

"But-"

"Tinker Fairies do _not _'forget' how to tinker. It's impossible. Besides, Miss Bell is too cleverer to forget how to tinker."

"Then how come she won't weave a basket?"

"It's like I told you before, Clanky, is that-"

"You know," Tinker Bell finally interrupted them, facing them with her voice in deep fury. "I'm right here and I can hear everything you're saying! If you have something to say about me, then why don't you say it to my face!" As Tink spoke to them, her voice rose until it turned to shouting. "I don't need anyone talking about me behind my back and especially those who think they know what's wrong with me! Did you even asked me? No! You just assumed! Why are all boys such idiots when it comes to me and how I feel! They don't know me at all! They just consider me as a friend and nothing else! So don't you dare talk about me as if I'm not here! And it would help me so much IF EVERYONE IN THIS ENTIRE UNIVERSE WOULD JUST LEAVE - ME - ALONE!"

Tink breathed in heavily, glaring hard at the two. Clank and Bobble were now staring at her with frightened eyes. She suddenly realized that it was deadly silent. All the tinkering noises from working fairies had stopped. She looked up and saw all of the Tinker Fairies froze on the spot and looked at her with the same expression Clank and Bobble wore.

Tink felt very guilty for scaring them and regretted raising her voice like that. She felt very uneasy under their stares. They were not helping her with her problems. She had to get away from here.

She turned to Clank and Bobble. "I . . . I'm sorry. I just . . . I can't take this anymore." And without another word, she miserably flew high above the Tinker's home and disappeared over the flowers.

"So," Clank at last spoke. "Does that means she _can_ weave a basket?"

Tinker Bell had been flying for a long time over hundreds of the flowers, not really sure where she was going. She was lost in her mind. When she later looked up, she found herself at Pixie Dust Tree. Sighing, Tink flew up and sat on one of the branches of the tree.

She sat there for a long moment in peace, thinking. She soon looked over her shoulder to see a few fairies gathered around a pool of pixie dust. There, flying over the edge of the golden pool, was one of her best friends, Terence. Tink watched him scooped some pixie dust into a tiny cup, and poured the cup over one of her fairy friends, Silvermist, who held her nose to prevent herself from sneezing from the dust on her face. Terence repeated this action to other fairies, all ready for their daily cup of pixie dust.

Tink stared at Terence. She wondered if she should tell him about her problem. Terence was sometimes a great help to her and she felt comfortable talking to him. But she wasn't sure if she should tell him about her "anger issue"

She sighed, looking away as she closed her eyes and bowed her head in misery.

"Is something wrong, Tinker Bell," a kind and motherly voice spoke. Tink jumped in surprised and turned her head. Across from her right side, she spotted a nest settled over two crossed branches, overlooking the sparkly pool. Resting in the nest was a dove that was two inches larger than normal doves. The dove was looking at Tink with soft, beady eyes.

Tink smiled for the first time. "Mother Dove!"

She had forgotten about the magical dove. Mother Dove had lived in Pixie Dust Tree with the fairies for a long while. Years ago, the fairies had saved her from a terrible storm that would have taken her life. The fairies revived her by using their pixie dust and it transformed her into a magic dove. Not only did she grew bigger, she could communicate to all of the fairies, exhibit vast wisdom, and provide additional pixie dust from her feathers in case the fairies needed them.

During her stay in Pixie Hollow, Mother Dove had laid an egg. Unlike any egg, it sparkled like it was protcted by a shield made of pixie dust. The egg held ultimate magic and, if cracked, it could endanger, not just Pixie Hollow, but the whole Neverland.

Each of the fairies grew closer to Mother Dove as they took care of her. One of them was Tinker Bell herself. Whenever she was troubled and didn't want to talk to her friends about it, she would go to Mother Dove for help. Mother Dove is the only one who knows of Tink's feelings for Peter Pan. She would always make Tink comfortable when the fairy reveal her secrets and deepest problems and the wise dove never judge her or tease her, but offered words of comfort and wise advice, something Tink is in need of right now.

Tink hurriedly flew up to Mother Dove.

"Why hello, Tinker Bell," Mother Dove warmly greeted.

"Hi, Mother Dove," Tink said happily as she wrapped her arms around the dove's neck. "How are you?"

"Oh, I am well, thank you."

Tink looked down at the bottom of Mother Dove's belly. "And your egg?"

Mother Dove lifted her belly to reveal her sparkling egg. "Still warm and healthy." She covered her egg again. Mother Dove looked up at Tink. "And what about you, Tinker Bell? Are you alright?"

"What? Me? Oh, I'm doing swell! I'm as happy as ever! Can't you see how happy I am! Yep, yep, happy as can be!"

Tink stopped rambling when she spotted Mother Dove staring at her as if she could see through the fairy and know that she isn't really happy. Tink moaned in depression.

"Come sit with me, Tinker Bell," Mother Dove said. Tink nodded and sat on the edge of the nest. She looked back at the golden pool, where Terence was now pouring pixie dust on Fawn, who closed her eyes in bliss.

"What's wrong, little one," Mother Dove cooed. "You can tell me anything that is troubling you."

Tink looked down at her lap and shook her head. "I can't. It's too . . . I just can't."

"Is it about Peter Pan," Mother Dove asked her, shocking Tink.

"What? No, no! Why would it be about _him_? Nope, not him!"

"Then why won't you look at me?"

Tinker Bell froze, realizing Mother Dove was telling the truth. It was one of her secret lying traits. Slowly, she turned her head to the direction of the magical dove. Just one look at the bird and the fairy felt safe and relaxed.

"Tinker Bell, you know you can tell me anything. And you that I wouldn't tell anyone of our discussion either. Just, if you are willing to talk, I will listen."

Tink nodded, knowing it was all true. So, gathering as much courage as she could, she took a deep breath and spoke.

"Well, Peter brought a _girl_ from the mainland here and . . . I think he's beginning to fall for _her_. I got so mad at that _girl_ that I . . . almost squashed her." Mother Dove didn't speak a word, silently requesting Tink to continue. "Then Peter came and saved that _girl_. He found out about what I did and . . . banished me again. Only, it was more than one week. Now I'm stuck here and Peter is spending all of his time with that _girl_ instead of with me! It's not fair!"

As soon as she finished, it was as if a giant weight she had carried for hours had been lifted through her confession. Tink felt so much better with everything out in the open. Especially to someone she trusted.

Mother Dove stayed silent for a moment, in deep though. This made Tink very nervous.

"Tinker Bell," she began. "Remember when you saved Peter Pan's life by taking a bomb inside a present, but ended up almost sacrificing yourself?" Tink nodded, not sure where the wise bird was going at. "And did you remember when Peter Pan begged you to stay alive for him and that he couldn't leave you? What was the exact words he used again?"

Tink stayed silent, clearly recalling that memory. "He said I had to hold on and that . . . I mean more to him than anyone in this whole world," she said, her voice low as if afraid to admit it.

Mother Dove smiled. "Well, it sounds to me that he really cares about you."

"But he doesn't love me the way I love him," Tink complained. "Even though he won't admit it, I can see that he's falling in love with that _girl_."

"But you will always have that special place in his heart that can never be replaced by this girl. Listen, back at the mainland, I've heard of a saying from the humans that, if you love someone, set them free. And if they love you as well, they will come back." Tink took the moment to let it sink in. "Answer me this, Tinker Bell: do you want Peter to be happy?"

"Of course, I do," Tink replied instantly.

"Then what if this girl brings happiness to Peter? Would you accept it or take it away from him?"

Tink opened her mouth, but stopped. She never really thought about that. However, at the thought of someone else bringing happiness to Peter instead of herself only infuriated Tink even more.

Mother Dove must have seen Tink's angry face, because next she said, "What's more important, Tinker Bell? His happiness or yours?"

Once she heard that, Tink suddenly felt overwhelmed with guilt. She knew it was wrong to think of oneself and what one wants; she had thought of her own fairy friends before herself many times. But, when it came to Peter . . . now that Tink thought about it, she realized she hadn't been a very good friend to Peter, all because of her selfishness and jealousy.

She uncomfortably looked back at the pixie pool, where Terence was now pouring pixie dust on Iridessa, who waited patiently for it to be over.

"I want Peter to be happy," Tink admitted. "But I love him so much. There just isn't anyone like him."

"Tinker Bell, if you love him, then maybe you should set him free, and possibly allow him to fall for this girl. However, that doesn't mean he'll replace you or forget you. If you show him how much you care for him by letting him go, then he will never forget you and you will always be a part of him, no matter what happens."

Tink looked up at Mother Dove and smiled warmly.

"Furthermore, give this girl a chance; get to know her. You two could very well be friends if you are ready to let it happen."

Tink turned away, scowling. She was definitely not ready to be kind to that girl.

"And perhaps, you may find someone else who is willing to accept your heart for him."

Tink looked back at Mother Dove, questionably. But Mother Dove's head was directed at the small pixie lake. Tink looked at her direction and saw Terence now pouring pixie dust on Rosetta, who used her powder to apply more pixie dust on her face.

Before she could ask Mother Dove what she meant, a faint voice called from above. "Tink! Tinker Bell! Where are you!"

Tink's heart suddenly lifted excitedly.

"That's Peter's voice," she exclaimed, jumping up into the air, staring up in the sky with a huge smile on her face. "I know that voice anywhere!"

However, Tink paused unexpectedly, her smile turned upside-down into a frown. "But why would he be looking for me," she thought aloud. "He banished me, didn't he?"

"Maybe he wishes to remove your banishment and possibly, he wants you back," Mother Dove suggested, giving hope to the fairy.

Tink looked back at the dove, still hearing Peter calling for her. Happily, she wrapped her tiny arms around Mother Dove's neck and hugged her.

She pulled back. "Thanks, Mother Dove."

Mother Dove smiled tenderly at her. "You are very welcome, Tinker Bell. You have always been a special fairy since the first day I have met you."

Tink gave her a huge smile before flying upward.

"Oh, and Tinker Bell," Mother Dove stopped her, causing her to turn around to face her. "Please learn to control your anger next time. It could very well lead you to more trouble."

Tink smirked. "Mother Dove, you know me; I'm a trouble seeker." With that, she rocketed up into the sky until she disappeared, leaving Mother Dove shaking her head, grinning.

Once Tinker Bell was high above Pixie Hallow, she looked around the island, searching for Peter. Finally, she spotted him flying closely over the forest trees surrounding the Never Peaks.

Tink's smile brightened at the sight of him and prepared to go after him, but stopped. A strange feeling of uneasiness filled her tiny body. Dozens of thoughts went through her head. _Why would Peter want me? Does he want me back? Or does he want something from me? What would he say? What should I say? _

After hearing Peter calling for her again, Tink drew a determined look on her face, sucking in her breath. _He's still my best friend. If he needs me, then I will be there for him, no matter what._

With that final thought, Tink took off and flew toward Peter, who was ducking his head down through the trees.

"Peter?" Tinker Bell spoke to him when she reached to him.

Peter pulled his head out of the roof trees and spotted Tink. He grinned dazzlingly at her. "There you are, Tink! I've been looking everywhere for you!"

Tink gave him a puzzled look. "Why were you looking for me?" She crossed her arms. "I thought I was banished from you . . . by you!"

Peter rubbed the back of his neck. He was always cute when he did that. "Yeah, I know. But you deserved it," he reminded her. "Anyway, I think I know of a way to take back your banishment."

Tink's pointed ears perked those possibly hopeful words. "Really? You mean it?"

"Absolutely! I just need you to do something for me and I promise, I'll take away your banishment."

Tink's glow brightened with excitement. She can finally come back to him! "I'll do anything, anything! What do I have to do?"

"I want you to watch over Margaret."

It was as if a joyous music from her heart scratched to a dead halt. Tink froze in the air, her exhilarating glow turned dull. She crossed her arms and gave him a death stare

"Look," Peter said as he held his hands up as if calming her. "I know you hate her . . ." Hate was an underestimate. "But you have to understand. Margaret's in danger."

Tink's eyes popped open. Looks like someone else was doing her job on hurting that girl.

"And I need you to look after her while she's staying at the Indian Village tonight."

Tink's eyebrows crossed in puzzlement. "Why me? Why can't you do it?"

"Because I have business to deal with. That's why I can't stay at the Indian Village. Please, I really need your help!"

Tink shook her head. "Peter, as much as I want to help you, I can't watch over that girl. No way possible. Besides, why do you want me to do it, after I almost squashed her?"

"Because you're the only one I can trust. I know you don't like her, but she's my friend, and it would mean a lot for you to do this." Tink smiled warmly at him. "Plus, if you don't kill her by the time I get back tomorrow morning, I'll take away your banishment. We have a deal?" he finished, spitting into his hand and raised it out to her for her to shake it in agreement.

Tink stared at his slimy hand, unsure on doing this for Peter (and, of course, disgusted at his slimy hand). She was touched that she was the only one he trusted. But to watch the girl he was falling for? That's something Tink didn't think she could handle.

"Peter," she spoke gently. "I really don't think that's a good idea. I mean, what if I can't stop myself from . . . well, you know."

"Then, if you hurt her, or attempt to hurt her, then I'll have to banish you forever," he answered casually. Tink's eyes widened in surprise and disbelief. He was very serious.

In truth, Tink couldn't trust herself around that cow-faced girl.

"Come on, Tink," Peter's voice turned softer. "I know you can do this. I believe you can hold it in. You're the strongest fairy I know."

Tink blushed at his comment. It was then she knew that she would do anything for him and, perhaps, if she does help him, then she could impress him.

Finally, Tink said, "Alright, I'll do it. But only for you," she quickly added. "You owe me big time."

To avoid touching Peter's mucus hand, she gripped on his bare and clean finger and shook it instead.

Peter smiled. "It's a deal! Now come on, let's go!" Once he said that, he flew off to the Indian Village and Tinker Bell hesitantly followed him.

***PPIII***

"Okay, let me explain this to you again," Margaret said to the Lost Boys, holding a thick stick that was tied to a five feet board. "The object of this game is to hit the ball with this thing called, the bat," she raised the object in her hand. "And you have to run to base before the opposing team catches the ball and hits you out with that ball. Now, do you get it?"

The Lost Boys just stared at Margaret, clueless.

At last, Slightly lifted his hand high up over his head.

"Yes, Slightly," Margaret said.

"What's this game called again?"

Margaret rested the top end of the bat on her other hand as she answered, "Well, back home, the game is called, 'Cricket.'"

"Why would they name a game after a bug," Nibs asked, the others nodding in agreement.

Margaret shrugged. "I'm not sure. The game had existed before my time, so I don't really know."

"But that doesn' make alotta sense if there's no crickets in the game," Cubby commented.

"Maybe there's crickets on the ground when they play," Twin 1 piped.

"Lots and lots of crickets," Twin 2 piped also.

"Yeah," Slightly grinned. "And if you squish the most crickets, you'll win!" He exclaimed as he stomped his feet as a demonstration.

"I thought if you don't get tagged by a ball you hit, then you win," Cubby said, scratching his head, confused.

The whole time the conversation went, Tootles nodded his head in an agreement to the one who was talking, as if they were right.

Margaret and Little just stared at the Lost Boys, who had gone astray in their discussion about crickets. Margaret and Little glanced at each other, both like-minded that they weren't going to play Cricket anytime soon.

All of a sudden, Little barked out loud, startling Margaret and the Lost Boys.

"What is it, Little," Margaret asked her puppy. But Little ignored her, now jumping up and down. Margaret noticed that her puppy was barking at the sky and she had a huge smile, as if a delicious bone was falling from the sky.

"Hey, look," Slightly exclaimed, pointing up at the sky. Margaret and the rest of the boys looked up.

There, they saw a figure flying in the sky and was approaching to them.

"That's Peter!" Nibs shouted, pointing his finger at the flying figure.

"He's back," cried out Twin 1.

"He's back," Twin 2 repeated.

All the Lost Boys jumped up and down, shouting for Peter (well, except for Tootles, who just jumped excitedly).

Margaret smiled as the form of Peter flew closer and closer to them. It wasn't until he landed in front of them that she finally noticed that he wasn't alone. Next to him, flying beside his head, was Tinker Bell, beaming at the boys who crowded around Peter.

Margaret was so shocked at seeing the fairy again that she dropped the "bat". Unluckily, it fell on top of poor Little's head. The puppy shook her head as if to shake off the painful blow on her head.

"Hey," Slightly finally piped up, grabbing the boys' attention. "Tink's here!"

"WHAT!" the Lost Boys shouted at the same time, shocked to see the presence of the exiled fairy right before them. Right then, they immediately threw questions about Tinker Bell at Peter.

"What's she doin' here?"

"Yeah, wasn't she banished?"

"For two whole weeks?"

"Did you bring food with ya?"

Peter tried to answer each question, but, every time he opened his mouth, more questions are blown to his face. Tinker Bell just silently stared at them.

"Why did she come back?"

"Did she follow you home?"

"Why aren'tcha doin' anything about it?"

"Did ya bring a banana or a coconut?"

"SILENCE!" Peter hollered, instantly quieting the Lost Boys.

"Look," Peter began. "I brought Tink here so that she can watch over Margaret."

"What!" Margaret finally spoke, stepping forward. A gasped was heard from all of the Lost Boys (except Tootles, who covered his tiny mouth in shock). Little's head tipped sideway in confusion.

"But wasn't Tink baniss . . . uh, banisty . . . eh, I mean gone for a long time?"

"Well," Peter explained. "Tink and I made an agreement that, if she watches over Margaret and keep her safe, promising not to harm or attempt to kill her, then I will lift my banishment from her."

"Oooooooh," the Lost Boys said in unison, understanding.

However, Margaret shook her head, not believing this was happening. And, after spotting Tinker Bell not happy about this treaty, Margaret knew this was a very bad idea. Sad to admit, she could not trust that fairy who tried to kill her with a giant boulder.

"Peter," Margaret spoke up. "I really don't think this is a good idea. It's obvious she doesn't want to do this and, quite frankly, I don't want this either. I just can't trust her with my life."

Tinker Bell crossed her arms and looked away, but Margaret could tell she agreed with her.

"Besides," Margaret continued. "I don't need a babysitter to watch over me. I am fully capable of taking care of myself, so there's truly no need for her at all."

"Come on," Peter said positively. "This would be a great way for you two ladies to get to know each other! Who knows, you two can become best friends!"

Margaret and Tinker Bell gave Peter an 'are-you-kidding' look. Even though, deep down, that was what Margaret had wanted from the start. But she had accepted the fact that that will never happen as long as Tinker Bell hates her.

Peter looked at both faces looking at him, puzzled. "What?"

"Either way, I can take care of myself," Margaret said stubbornly. "I don't need anyone to take care of me."

"Margaret," Peter said, suddenly serious, which startled her. "You almost died this morning. If I wasn't there on time, you would have drowned."

"But I didn't," Margaret argued.

"Yeah, thanks to me. Face it, you couldn't survive one minute without me," he said confidently, crossing his arms.

Margaret rolled her eyes. "Oh please, I could have found a way to escape. And I'm not helpless; I knocked out more than three pirates and most of them were muscular!"

"That's not true and you know it!"

"How can you be sure; you were too busy fighting Hook, you never got the chance to 'protect me'!"

As Peter and Margaret argue, the Lost Boys and Little silently glanced back and forward from one speaker to another. Tinker Bell was doing the same, but she was smiling in amusement.

Suddenly, an idea popped in Margaret's head, shutting her up. She narrowed at Peter and said, with a smirk on her face, "Alright, you win. I'll do as you ask. I'll allow Tinker Bell to watch over me while you're gone."

Peter grinned, proud of himself for winning the argument, until his smile turned upside down when he noticed an obvious hint of sarcasm in Margaret's words. Margaret continued to smirk at him.

"Okay, Margaret, what do you want?"

Margaret smiled brightly. "If I allow you to let Tinker Bell protect me for . . ."

"Just until I get back tomorrow," Peter told her.

"For until you get back tomorrow, then you have to promise me that you will to teach me some sword fighting."

"Sword fighting," Peter said, surprised. "You want to learn sword fighting?"

Margaret shrugged. "Why not? It'll be fun. Plus, it will help me defend myself more." She knew that last bit would convince him.

"So?" Margaret held up her hand to shake Peter's in agreement. Peter stared at her hand and did something totally disgusting: he spitted his hand and used it to shake hers. Margaret's eyes tightened in repulsion, trying to ignore the now gross substance on her hand as she quickly rubbed it off on her hip.

"You got yourself a deal," Peter declared.


	11. Ch10 Forming a Truce

"PETER PAN APPROACHIN'!" shouted a lookout pirate from one of the watchtowers.

At those words, every one of the pirates assumed position, gathering weapons, taking cover behind walls and cabins, and waiting for the signal to fire at their upcoming enemy.

A small pirate ran to the Captain's cabin and urgently knocked on the door. "Cap' n, cap' n, Peter Pan is-"

He was suddenly smacked to the wall by the door, unnoticed by Captain Hook. He narrowed his eyes at the almost dark sky.

"Here," he finished the tiny pirate's sentence. He marched up to one of the pirates, grabbed a telescope from that pirate, and looked up at the sky through it.

There, he saw Peter Pan himself, up in the sky, heading straight for them.

Hook glanced over at all of the armed pirates. "On my word, fire everything at that boy!" he commanded to the prepared pirates.

He looked back at the telescope and saw the flying boy coming closer and closer.

"Ready," he hollered. "Aim!" He heard pirates aiming all of their weapons up at Peter Pan.

Just when he was about to order them to fire their weapons, Hook saw the boy waving something, as if trying to grab their attention. Hook took a closer look at what the boy was holding and, there, he saw a white cloth tied to a stick.

A white flag.

"Hold your fire," Hook shouted, pulling the telescope down. Puzzled, the pirates did as he said.

"Why, captain," one of them asked Hook.

Hook pointed at the boy. "Don't you see? He's waving a white flag at us. He's not here to fight; he wants to negotiate."

"But why would he want that?" another pirate asked.

Hook narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Peter Pan. That's what he wanted to know.

"Hook," Peter Pan called out, floating over Fort Buccaneer. "I need to talk to you outside the fort! Leave your weapons behind!"

"Not until you leave yours behind," Hook shouted back.

Peter Pan nodded. "Meet me by the shores in two minutes! Come alone!" With that, he flew off and disappeared.

Hook's eyes remained on the sky where Peter Pan have been, as if expecting the boy to reappear and admit that it was all a joke, and then begin taunting Hook. As always.

But this time, that did not happen.

"Do ye think 't's a trap," a tall and fat pirate asked.

"Ye're not goin' t' actually go meet th' lad, are ye," a toothless pirate asked the captain.

Hook didn't speak for a moment. Then he answered, "The boy has never been this serious before. I must go and see what he wants. But first . . . " he ripped a dagger out of a nearby pirate's mouth and (ignoring the nearby pirate's whimper) tucked the dagger underneath his belt behind his coat. "Safety precaution. In case this turns into a joke."

He walked up to the gate door and stopped. "Mr. Smee, open this door!"

He waited for Mr. Smee to appear and do as he ordered him to, but Smee never showed up.

Hook raised an eyebrow. "SMEE!" he bellowed, looking around for his lousy first mate. He looked among the pirates. "Where's Mr. Smee," he asked them.

"He left earlier t' gather berries an' eggs," a peg-legged pirate answered.

"Who told him to do that?" Hook demanded, furious that Smee would leave when he wasn't suppose to.

"You did," the tiny pirate piped. "You sent Mr. Smee t' collect food supplies, remember?"

Hook paused, remembering the last time he saw Smee . . . leaving to gather food in his order.

He gave the tiny pirate a cool stare, not wanting to admit that he forgot and the tiny pirate was right. So he mumbled, "I'll deal with you later." The tiny pirate gulped in fear. "But right now . . . open this door. NOW!" he shouted at him.

The tiny pirate quickly ran to the door, gripped on the handle, and pulled the door open for the captain to leave. Giving all of the pirates a cold glare, Hook silently walked out of the fort and straight for the shores.

Once he left the fort and came up to the shores, he noticed two things. 1. He could clearly see the sunset right across the ocean from the shores, making the sky and ocean breathtaking altogether, and 2. He spotted Peter Pan standing on the shores, staring out at the sunset. When Hook walked closer, Pan, as if he heard Hook's footsteps on the soft sand, turned his head toward his nemesis.

Hook's eyes pointed more at the boy curiously. Pan's face looked just as serious up close as it looked from afar. There was no sparkle in the boy's eyes, no cocky smirk hidden in his lips, nothing Hook was use to seeing.

This made Hook very curious.

"I need to talk to you, Hook," Pan finally spoke, getting down to business. Hook was surprised, but refused to show it.

"And what, may I ask, do you wish to speak to me about," Hook asked, crossing his arms.

"Margaret."

Hook's eyebrows rose. "What?" Then, an evil smirked crawled to his face. "Oh, I see. You're still upset about that, 'Drowning-Miss-Benson-at-Skull-Rock' matter, are you?"

"I want you to stay away from her."

Hook did another take at the boy. "Pardon me?"

"I want you to never go after her, hurt her, or try to kill her, ever again."

Hook raised his eyebrow at Pan, still not sure if the boy was serious or an excellent actor. "And why should I stay away from your little girlfriend?"

Peter Pan flinched. "She's not my girlfriend," he mumbled so low, Hook almost couldn't hear him. And then, raising his voice, he said, "Because I made a promise that I would not let any harm come to Margaret while she's here in Neverland. And I can't keep that promise if you keep hunting her down."

Hook shook his head. "Do you really think that your silly, little promise matters to me?"

Peter stepped forward, narrowing his eyes at Hook, as if to scare him into believing he meant it. "Well, it matters to me. And if you ever go after Margaret, or try to kill her, whether you succeed or not, I will find you and make sure that you'll never see daylight again."

Hook stared at the boy for a long moment, with Peter staring right back at him.

Hook then smirked at him. "What has she done to you?"

Peter was clearly surprised at Hook's question. "What? What are you talking about?"

"Isn't it obvious," Hook replied as he began to circle the boy. "Ever since you brought this Margaret girl, you've changed into a very different person."

"That's not true," Peter instantly snapped. "I haven't changed at all!"

"Oh, really? Why did you leave our little battle to aid this girl?"

"She was hurt! I had to help her!"

"Oh, please. When Tiger Lily was facing the same fate as Miss Benson's, what did you do? You fought me just until you left me for that crocodile, then you became the hero and rescued Tiger Lily in the nick of time. But now, when Miss Benson faced death, you immediately left me just to help your lady friend."

"That's different!"

"And furthermore," Hook continued, ignoring Pan's comment. "When you came to my fort not more than three minutes ago, you didn't begin your little game of pranks on us as usual. Instead, you wave a white flag and requested to speak with me. Peter Pan never seeks me only to speak with me. Only to ridicule me."

"I had to-"

"And you even threatened me to not harm your lady friend, when I only captured her once. What makes you so sure I will attempt it again?"

"I just know you will!"

"And, let's not forget," Hook continued. "That wonderful dance you and your lady friend did up in the sky just last night."

Peter froze. "You spied on us," the boy whispered in horror.

Hook chuckled. "I'm sure I wasn't the only one; you two were just hard to look away. And it sure seems that you two are drawing even more close together. Tell me, Pan. Have you fallen in love with Miss Benson?"

"No," Peter Pan retorted, his fists tightened as if controlling his rising anger.

"Are you sure about that," Hook stepped forward the boy, his evil smile widening. "After all, love is everywhere, you can never run from this, 'adult feeling'."

"Shut up."

"Is this 'love' changing you, boy?"

"I said, shut up!" Peter Pan's voice slightly rose, shaking with fury and terror.

"It's almost like," Hook continued with a wicked smirk on his face. "This 'love' is changing you into something more, perhaps even a grown-up-"

"ENOUGH!" Peter Pan shouted. Hook, surprised by the boy's outburst, silenced.

After a moment of heavy breathing and staring dead straight at Hook, Pan spoke again with a lowered, but dangerous voice. "Look, just swear that you won't hunt Margaret down and hurt or kill her."

Hook stayed silent, looking over the boy as Peter Pan try to calm himself down.

"Very well," Hook finally said. He then placed his hook hand on his chest and raised his right hand. "I swear upon my left hook that I will not hunt down Margaret Benson and attempt to harm or kill her myself."

Peter Pan didn't say a word, watching Hook as if to see if he can spot a lie in both Hook's words and appearance.

Hook raised his eyebrow. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

The boy paused, then nodded. "Yeah. But if you break that promise, then-"

"I know, I know, you'll make sure that I'll never see daylight again. I got that part." He held out his right hand to shake in agreement. "Deal?"

Grinning for the first time since he arrived, Peter Pan smirked, spit a large portion of saliva at his hand and used the said hand to shake Hook's hand (much to the captain's major disgust).

"Deal," was all Peter Pan said and, with one last glance at Hook, he jumped up into the sky and vanished.

Hook looked intently at the sky, an evil and conniving sneer slowly stretched across his long face, all the while rubbing his gross hand against his coat.

***PPIII***

"Now, let the celebration begin," the Indian Chief announced. Everyone in the Indian Village cheered, including the Lost Boys, Little, and Margaret.

They had all finished the Indian's feast, which the food was very delicious. Now, the entertainment of the festival has commenced.

The whole Indian Village was decorated for the event. Colorful cloths and beads covered over each tepees, the way ornaments are hung on a Christmas tree. There were hundreds of torches and candles surrounding the place, glowing up the village as if the night was invaded by the light of the sun.

All the Indians were ecstatic and completely enjoying themselves during the festival. They wore their best clothes and accessories they own, especially beads and feathers. Also, their faces were covered in traditional painting marks, a sign of their heritage. On some faces, they wore less painting, while the others covered their whole faces with their paintings. Not to mention there are some Indians that covered their entire body with their paintings. Few of them, mostly the men, wore animal skin as wonderful capes.

Four of the men that wore animal skinned capes were the performers, who danced around at the center of the village, providing the Indian villagers, who sat around the dancers in a very large circle, a grand show. Each of the dancers wore masks on their faces and held a spear as they chanted in their native tongue. Everyone watching the performance sat around the dancers and watched them in excitement.

There were drummers sitting on every corner of the village, beating there drums in a rhythmic music. They had started at the beginning of the festival and had not stopped since then (except for the feast, where they paused and ate). They played their drums for the performers as they danced to the beat of the drums.

The Indian Chief sat on a bright red blanket that lay on the ground, his arms and legs crossed. He observed the festival before him with a blank face, but there was a twinkle of enjoyment in his eyes. He wore a large, horned warbonnets

on his head, the end of his headdress trailed behind him. His clothes were large and made of the finest animal skin in the whole village.

Tiger Lily sat on the Chief's right side. She wore a beautiful white, sleeveless dress. Three large eagle feathers resided behind her head, tucked in her silver blue headband. Like her father, she sat with her legs crossed, but she laid her hands on top of her legs as she watched the show with great interest and excitement as her fellow people.

On the left side of the Chief sat Margaret, Little, and the Lost Boys. Each of them (even Little) wore feather headbands on their heads and almost all of them had their faces painted in a ceremonial and traditional Indian mark, just like all of the villagers. Though the Lost Boys' faces were completely covered with paintings; it was hard to see their expressions through the thick marks. Margaret's face was not fully covered with paintings; there was only a pair of single straight marks on her cheeks. Little was the only one with no make-up; she could never stand still long enough for the Indians to paint her face.

When the dancing Indians finished their performance, everyone applauded, ululation filled the air. The drummers paused as the cheering continued and the Indian players disappeared among the audience.

The Chief clapped his large hands twice and, instantly, three Indians appeared, carrying a small, but very wide drum to the center of the village.

Margaret and Little glanced at each other in puzzlement. Why was there a drum there? Could this be part of the show?

Just then, Tiger Lily stood up and walked to the centered drum and all of the Indians howled, cheering for their princess.

The drummers started playing again, only in different rhythm, on which began Tiger Lily's performance.

Margaret didn't really wanted to see Tiger Lily dancing; she still immensely disliked Tiger Lily ever since her moment with Peter. But Margaret couldn't turn away from the way the Indian princess danced. She watched in fascination as Tiger Lily jumped on the centered drum and danced, stomping her feet to make music underneath her feet, twirling around in every directions, moving her arms along with her body, and etc. Each movement followed along the beat of the drums. It was like watching a ballerina, except it was more rough and upbeat. She later jumped off and skipped around the centered drum, every once in a while stepping back on it and stepping off. She soon jumped back on the drum and continued dancing.

Margaret realized why she continued to watch. The way Tiger Lily danced was like nothing the earlier performers had done before. Tiger Lily didn't just dance because it was tradition, so she would be use to it. Margaret could see how much Tiger Lily was showing through her dancing: her spirit, her freedom, her love for her culture. She was basically expressing herself through her dancing. And Margaret was sure she has never seen anything like this back home, wherever that is.

Everyone's eyes were, of course, on Tiger Lily, but Margaret's eyes were so fixed on her every move, it was as if she was memorizing them for her future. And the Chief was the only one who noticed her eyes.

At last, Tiger Lily's performance had ended, as well as the drummers, and the entire population of the village cheered and howled, including the Lost Boys, Little, and, amazingly, Margaret. Tiger Lily bowed to her people and returned to her seat.

The Chief raised his hand and, soon, all of the villagers silenced.

The Lost Boys were shocked at the immediate hush among the Indians just from a raise hand.

"Cool," Slightly muttered. He raised his hand as well, wondering if his hand held the same power as the Chief's hand. He glanced at Cubby, who was gnawing on a turkey leg loudly. Slightly raised his hand at him and Cubby paused, staring at him. However, Cubby banged his turkey leg on Slightly's head and continued eating his food.

Ignoring the Lost Boys' interaction, Margaret looked over at all of the Villagers, their eyes intently on their Chief, as if he was about to give out an all-important speech. So, Margaret turned to their leader as he lowered his hand and began to speak.

"It has brought me great joy to watch my people and my daughter," he looked at Tiger Lily with a gentle look, on which she respectfully nodded at him, but Margaret caught a hidden, warm smile beneath her proud face. "Present our sacred and traditional dance to our guests tonight, especially a visitor from the outside world. And now, perhaps, for this occasion, we should now allow that visitor to perform _her_ dance to us."

The Chief's beaded eyes were pointed at Margaret, who was shocked at realizing he meant her.

"Me," Margaret asked. The Chief nodded. "But I can't dance. Not as well as your dancers."

"Nonsense," the Chief replied. "Anyone can dance." He clapped three times. Right then, two Indians came out of nowhere, making their way toward Margaret. They then pulled her up, and pushed her to the centered drum. Margaret tried to resist them, attempting to return to her seat, but they just pushed her back to the centered drum. Soon, they left her and disappeared into the crowd.

Margaret froze on the spot. Thousands of eyes were on her. Her mind was blank. What was she suppose to do? She couldn't dance like them? She would make a fool of herself if she tried.

She was interrupted by a howl that came from her puppy. Margaret slowly turned to Little and saw a big, encouraging grin on her small face. Tootles, who was sitting close to Little, held out two thumbs up. The other Lost Boys followed his lead and did the same thing.

Margaret smiled, feeling a little better. But it wasn't until she glanced at another face that pushed her to the edge.

Tiger Lily was wearing a smug look that clearly said, "I knew it; you're too chicken! You can never be as good as me! Just try and do better than me!"

Margaret's blood boiled like a raging volcano. Oh yes you spoiled cow, I will try!

Without another thought, she stepped on the centered drum and nodded for the drummers to begin.

However, even when the drummers started drumming, Margaret still had no idea what to do. She had danced before, but that was with Peter. Now, she was on her own, being watched closely by the whole village. One wrong move and a wave of harsh laughter would hit her.

She had to come up with a plan. And quickly, so to save herself from further embarrassment.

In that instant, pictures of Tiger Lily's dance flashed in her mind. Maybe she could mimic them a little, and add flavors of her own into it. And by flavors, really it means improve like her life depended on it.

It was worth a shot.

Following each beat of the drums, she moved her arms from side to side, twirled around, then jumped. She stomped her feet on the drum below her as she turned around.

She wished she had pixie dust; she would have like to do some stunts she had used back at Skull Rock. It had made her feel light as a feather; immune to gravity.

She immediately thought of flying. That gave her an idea.

Closing her eyes, and imagining herself flying in the sky, she spread her arms out and moved around the edge of the drum as if she was gliding above the drum. She twirled around a few times and swung her leg.

Soon, Margaret got so caught up in her dancing and moved every part of her body in any way it wanted. She felt the independence and happiness flowing through her veins, causing her to smile widely. Margaret was so into her dance; she had never felt so free since she flew high in the sky. In fact, it did feel like she was actually flying.

Her heart and body was consumed with joy and freedom; this must have been what Tiger Lily was feeling while dancing.

She could hear all the villagers cheering for her, not even waiting for her to end. Actually, their cheering was louder and more enjoyable than when they cheered for Tiger Lily. Margaret's dancing must have really been that amazing to have the entire village rooting for you that much.

It was now obvious who was their favorite dancer and it definitely wasn't their princess.

Margaret turned to the direction of Tiger Lily so that she could rub it in on her face; a perfect revenge for the snobby princess rubbing her nose against Peter's nose right in front of Margaret.

But, when she saw Tiger Lily, she saw the Indian princess looking at her people with a heartbreaking look. Her eyes glazed with water, one tear escaping down her brown skin. Quickly, so no one would see her like that, she raised her knees up to her chin, wrapping her arms around them, and buried her face on her knees.

Margaret stopped dancing, her heart heavy with guilt. She didn't mean to hurt her. She just wanted to get back at her. She didn't mean to steal her audience. Why would Tiger Lily be depressed because of that?

That was when Margaret realized that Tiger Lily wasn't all that bad. She loved her people and enjoy dancing for them; making them happy was a quality a princess loves to do. And, when they start cheering for another dancer, someone who wasn't even an Indian, Tiger Lily felt betrayed, like how a child would feel when the parent abandons their child for another.

Margaret took her revenge too far. She was now the villain at that moment, not Tiger Lily. And Margaret didn't like it. Not one bit.

The drumming slowly faded, unsure if they should continue. The audience fell into complete silence, watching what would happen next.

Then, Margaret had a brilliant idea. She motioned for the drummers to keep going. As they did so, Margaret jumped off of the centered drum and ran toward Tiger Lily.

Margaret grabbed one of Tiger Lily's hands and, before Tiger Lily could understand what was going on, Margaret pulled her to the centered drum and pushed her on top of it.

Margaret backed up and clapped her hands for the surprised princess, giving her a moment to shine.

However, instead of taking advantage of this moment to dance, Tiger Lily just stood frozen on the centered drum. Her eyes gazed over her people, who were now cheering for her. She looked back at Margaret and stared at her for a while, unable to believe on what this peasant girl did for her.

Then, a warm and grateful smile slowly made its way to the Indian princess' face.

Silently, she reached out her hand to Margaret. Margaret, although confused, took her offered hand anyway. Tiger Lily pulled her up on the centered drum with her. They paused, looking at each other. And then, they shook hands, coming to an understanding and forming a new friendship.

Together, they danced to the rhythm of the drums, performing their styles of dancing with each other as the people all around cheered for them even more. The Indian Chief, who's face was blank the whole time, slipped a little lopsided grin on his red face.

The Lost Boys were jumping and hollering. Little did the same thing, until she ran to the centered drum to join the girls in dancing. The girls, spotting Little, laughed and danced around the hopping puppy.

When he saw this, Tootles scurried over to join them and, seeing this, the rest of the Lost Boys rushed over to them, dancing along with them.

Soon, the entire village ended up dancing together (except the Chief, who just sat there and watched).

While everyone was dancing, a few Indians moved the centered drum away and created a huge, flaming campfire in its place. And, now, everyone was dancing around the campfire. They hopped and twirled and skipped and hollered. They all had the time of their lives as the festival continued on.

All of a sudden, Margaret stopped and spotted something, only to be bumped from the dancing Indians behind her. So, she quickly moved away and looked back at what caught her attention.

There was a small, yellow glow that was coming from the edge of the village, far from the party that was taking place. Margaret knew very well who that glow belonged to: Tinker Bell.

Margaret made her way toward the ball of light, avoiding dancers in her way, which no one paying attention to her.

As she followed the light, Margaret realized that Tinker Bell had never participated at the festival with her, Little, and the Lost Boys and wondered why she chose not to join in the fun. Then, she thought of Tinker Bell's hatred toward her. It would make sense that the fairy would not want to be part of a festival that Margaret was participating in. It would've made perfect sense for the fairy to stay far away from the girl as possible.

Just not too far away; Tinker Bell still had to stay and watch over Margaret in order to keep her promise to Peter.

Finally, Margaret escaped the party goers and reached to the far edge of the village, where the light was dimmer, save for Tinker Bell's glow.

Tinker Bell was sitting on top of a pile of wooden logs that rested against a tepee. Her head was raised up as her sad and worried eyes laid on the starry sky.

At first, Margaret wanted to leave her alone, so that she would give her some space and not anger her any more. Then, Margaret noticed how lonely Tinker Bell was. So, trying not to make a sound, she sat down next to the pile of logs; next to the fairy.

Unfortunately, Tinker Bell saw her from the corner of her eyes and anger quickly made its way to her face, turning around so that her bare back was facing Margaret in, order to ignore her.

"Oh Tinker Bell, don't do that," Margaret begged. Tinker Bell only crossed her arms.

Margaret sighed. "Look, I know you hate me and you hate being here, guarding me. But can't we just get along until Peter gets back?"

Tinker Bell didn't respond.

Margaret thought for a moment before she spoke again. "Well, at least let me do something that will make your stay . . . bearable." Her eyes then scanned the ground around her. She looked behind herself and spotted something shiny on top of a mound of clothes. Reaching for it, Margaret pulled it out and, bringing it in front of her face, she saw that the shiny object was a long, silver needle.

Margaret moved the needle in front of Tinker Bell. "Take it," she said.

Tinker Bell looked at the needle and glanced at Margaret, confused.

"Go on, take it."

Slowly, still sending Margaret a perplexed look, Tinker Bell gripped both her hands on the needle.

"Is it sharp," Margaret asked her. Tinker Bell shot her a questionable look. After Margaret nodded for her to check, Tinker Bell gently prick the sharp end of the needle with her tiny finger. The sound of yelping bells came out of her mouth as she quickly pulled her finger away, trying to get rid of the pain by shaking it and sticking it inside her mouth.

"I'll take that as a yes," Margaret said. Letting out a deep sigh, she slowly pulled her night robe sleeve back, exposing her unclothed forearm. She then moved her exposed arm in front of Tinker Bell. The fairy looked down on Margaret's arm and looked up at her, repeating her questionable appearance.

Margaret's head faced forward, her eyes closed, as she said to the fairy with a grim tone, "Stab the needle into my arm."

Tinker Bell's eyes shot wide open in shock.

"Go on and stab my arm. It's what you want, isn't it? To see me in pain? If you can't kill me, you would at least want to hurt me, right? Well then, I'm making your wish come true. Go ahead and stab me as many times as you like. I won't complain, I won't cry, I won't even move a muscle. Just go and get it over with, so you can be happy." She looked at the frozen fairy. "And I promise, I won't tell Peter about this; this will be our little secret." She turned away and shut her eyes tight, clenching both her fists in an attempt to calm itself for the coming pain.

A long moment had passed and nothing had happened. Margaret peeked at Tinker Bell and saw that the fairy, standing up on the log, had raise the needle above Margaret's arm. But she didn't stab her. Not yet, at least. The fairy's arms were shaking and her face looked as if her conscience was battling roughly inside her head. Margaret could see little beads of sweat falling from Tinker Bell's face as she stared intensely at the arm, waiting for her to provide great pain. But she didn't bring down her weapon on her target; she just held it up in the air, visibly struggling on whether to do the right thing or not.

Margaret stared at the fairy, confused. Didn't she want to do this?

"Come on, Tinker Bell," Margaret said, trying to stay strong, but couldn't help but fear for the upcoming pain on her arm. "Do it. Do it now!"

Tinker Bell didn't respond, only lifting the needle higher. Her small body was now shaking, battling over what she wanted and what was right. The intensity on choosing an action was overwhelming her, as if her decision could end the world in an instant.

Finally, to Margaret's shock, Tinker Bell let out a loud, bell-like scream and threw the needle far away from them. She sat back down, gathered up her legs, and cried.

Margaret was stunned, unable to understand what just happened and why. As she pulled her unharmed arm back, Margaret tried thinking of reasons why Tinker Bell didn't do it, when she had the opportune moment.

Does that mean Tinker Bell actually likes me? Margaret immediately crossed that out, knowing that that sure couldn't be true. Did Tinker Bell not trust her when she said she wouldn't tell Peter? Even if that was true, Tinker Bell would still do it if she was very angry. Does Tinker Bell not want to hurt her, but kill her? No, that couldn't be it; she would very much want to bring pain to Margaret so that she will be exceptionally happy.

Then why didn't Tinker Bell stab her?

Margaret glanced at the weeping fairy. "It's because fairies can't bring harm to children, no matter how much they hate them. Is that right?"

Tinker Bell nodded, letting out a twinkling wail.

"But why would you be willing to harm me before-" Margaret stopped. "Oh, right, your 'anger issues'. You were too mad to think."

Again, Tinker Bell nodded, still sobbing.

Feeling sorry for the fairy, Margaret grabbed a small cloth from the mound of clothes behind her and gave it to Tinker Bell, who took it and buried her face into it.

"I've always dreamed about you, Tinker Bell," Margaret said softly, not sure why she was telling her this, but it came pouring out of her mouth. "You were always happy in those dreams. Flying across the sky, so carefree and happy. Whenever you were with me in my dreams, it was as if I was Peter Pan and we would have adventures together, just enjoying each other's company." She paused, then looked over at Tinker Bell, who had slowly raised her head and stared at the girl. "But that's just it. It was all a dream. A silly, unrealistic dream. A dream that cannot come true, no matter how hard I try to make it. You hate me and will never be my friend. I know that now and I have accepted that truth." Her gloomy face turned to the ocean, where its reflection of the moon glittered upon the surface. "I just wish it didn't have to hurt so much," she whispered.

Tinker Bell looked down on her handkerchief cloth in deep though, looking very guilty and miserable.

Margaret soon looked up at the night sky, staring at the two brightest stars. "I've always loved those stars," she commented. "Especially the first one on the left." She paused for a moment. "I'm not sure I know why, though."

Margaret stayed with Tinker Bell for a long while, keeping the quiet fairy company, even though she herself hadn't made a sound since her little speech. Eventually, the Indian Festival has ended behind them and everyone headed to bed. The Chief had sent Tiger Lily to escort Margaret to her tent, where they will be sharing for the night. Margaret was about to follow Tiger Lily, but stopped when she saw Tinker Bell still staring at the sky, her eyes slightly dropping in drowsiness.

Margaret smiled softly. "Tinker Bell? Why don't you sleep with us? You could use some rest."

Tinker Bell turned to her, looking unsure.

"If you sleep now, it will make Peter's arrival much quicker," Margaret added.

That got it.

Hesitantly, Tinker Bell flapped her wings, flying up in the air, and followed the girls to their tepee.

Once they were inside, Margaret was greeted by a very sleepy Little, who walked up to her owner and rubbed her head against Margaret's leg. Margaret picked her puppy up and hugged her as Tiger Lily introduced their beds, which was actually a long mass of hay covered with a blanket and a quilt to cover the sleeper. Tiger Lily's bed was on one side of the tepee, while Margaret's was in the other side. There was another blanket that lay next to Margaret's bed, which belonged to Little.

As Margaret saw Tiger Lily and Little lay on their beds and fall asleep, she turned around to see Tinker Bell just floating inside the tent. Looking around, Margaret spotted extra blankets next to the entrance of the tepee. She picked them up, carried it across the round room, and settled it against the wall.

She turned to Tinker Bell, who was trying to stay high above the sky; trying to keep awake. "Here, Tinker Bell. You can sleep here."

Too tired to argue or respond, Tinker Bell flew to the blanket and lay down. Smiling, Margaret gently took the end of the blanket and pulled it up over the fairy.

Margaret scrunched her eyebrows. Something was missing.

Realizing what it was, she quietly pulled out her Peter Pan doll from her night robe pocket and lay it next to Tinker Bell. When she first saw the doll, who looked very much like Peter, Tinker Bell's eyes popped out in surprise.

"This is my doll," Margaret whispered to the fairy, so that she doesn't wake up Little and Tiger Lily. "I sleep with him every night. He always seem to comfort me whenever I sleep." She paused, wondering if this is what she needs to do. "I'd like you to have it for the night. Maybe he can give you some comfort."

Tinker Bell just stared at the doll, completely speechless.

Sighing, Margaret went straight to her bed and, as she lay there, she was feeling very strange at the thought of sleeping without her doll tonight. Sure she did it before, but she didn't know at the time, because she had lost it. Maybe this was a mistake.

She turned her head to Tinker Bell's direction and a huge grin made her way to her face.

Tinker Bell was already fast asleep, but her arms was wrapped around the doll. Her head was pressed against the doll's chest and she had a lovely smile on her sleeping face.

Feeling very happy at the only time of seeing Tinker Bell genuinely peaceful, Margaret closed her eyes and fell asleep.

***PPIII***

The night was peaceful in Pixie Hollow, as all of the fairies fell into a deep sleep, oblivious to what is to come.

Mother Dove snuggled close to her Egg, softly sleeping. She was aware that there was suppose to be an Animal Fairy watching over her that night. However, Mother Dove was sure that there was no need to be watched over tonight.

Suddenly, Mother Dove's eyes popped open at the sound of a _crunch_. She looked around the darkness, but saw nothing suspicious.

_Perhaps it was only one of the nocturnal animals_, Mother Dove thought to herself. _Like a badger or a wolf. _An abrupt thought came to her. _Oh dear, I hope neither of those animals come near Pixie Hollow and all of my fairy friends!_

The sound _crunch_ appeared again, only now it was occurring every few seconds. Mother Dove could identify the sound as the ground leaves crunched below.

That sound was made by someone's footprints. And that someone was very close by.

The noise was getting closer and closer, much to Mother Dove's anxiety. She was so close to calling her fairy friends for help, but convinced herself that it will pass by.

The noise stopped and the magical dove sighed in relief, sensitively clutching her precious Egg close to her. The danger has passed.

All of a sudden, a large branch closest to her was pushed aside, revealing a silhouette of a face, leaning over to the frightened dove.

Mother Dove screamed, calling out for help, as she tried to flap her wings at the intruder to keep it away from her and her Egg.

The next thing Mother Dove knew, she was caught into total darkness, crying out for her now unprotected Egg.


	12. Ch11 Trouble Approaching

**Trouble Approaching**

When Margaret's eyes fluttered awake, her mind drifted away from dreams of dirty streets, dark and rainy clouds, smoking roofs, and numerous buildings in every sight, including a tall tower with a giant clock on it. What a strange and miserable place to live in.

Still feeling tired, she closed her eyes to return to slumber. But they popped open when she heard a roaster crow. A roaster crow? Margaret was pretty sure that the Indians did not own any roasters in their village.

Then where was the crow coming from?

She sat up and rubbed her sleepy eyes awake as she tried to think.

And then she suddenly recognized the young boyish voice crowing.

With a wide grin, she jumped out of her bed and rushed to the entrance of the tepee. Opening the entrance, she looked out of the tent and up into the sky.

There, she spotted Peter Pan, soaring across the sky and heading toward the Indian Village.

Her lips stretched into an overjoyed smile, her heart fluttering inside of her. She hadn't realized how much she missed him. And how angry she still was for keeping her in the village (though she had been promised sword fighting lessons, so it was worth it).

She turned around and saw that only Little and Tinker Bell were inside the tent with her. Tiger Lily must have left earlier.

Margaret hurried over to the sleeping Little and gently shook her puppy. "Wake up, Little! Peter's here!"

Little, wide awake, wagged her small tail with cheerfulness, a big grin pasted on her cute tiny face.

Margaret giggled, rubbing Little's head, before she made her way over to Tinker Bell, who was clutching a Peter Pan doll in her sleep.

"Tinker Bell," Margaret whispered, nudging her finger at her miniature body. "Tinker Bell, wake up." Tinker Bell only shook her head and buried her face onto the doll's chest, trying to ignore Margaret. "Tinker Bell, you've got to wake up. Peter's here!"

At the sound of Peter's name, Tinker Bell shot up awake, happiness overflowing her glowing body.

"Come on, then. Let's go see him," Margaret said excitedly as she ran out of the tepee with Little right behind her.

The minute Margaret stepped outside, she called out, "Peter!"

Peter had already landed and was currently in the middle of a conversation with the Indian Chief, with Tiger Lily standing close by. When he heard his name, Peter turned and beamed once he saw Margaret.

Without a second thought, Margaret ran toward Peter and into his open arms, wrapping her own arms around his neck. They clutched each other for a long while, never wanting to let go and not fully aware of what was happening around them, as well as who was watching their embrace. Margaret's eyes were closed in peace; it felt so good to be held by Peter.

"I missed you," Margaret mumbled to Peter's neck.

Peter chuckled, but he held her tighter. "Yeah, I can see that. Couldn't handle not seeing me for a whole night, huh?"

Margaret pulled back, scowling at him, and punched his arm. But she couldn't hold back a silly grin.

"Oww!" Peter rubbed his bruised arm. "What was that for?"

"You being cocky. If you keep that up, it will be the death of you."

Peter just grinned arrogantly at her. "Admit it, you like me cocky."

Margaret rolled her eyes. "In your dreams."

They were interrupted by Little barking, who was jumping up excitedly at Peter. Peter laughed as he kneeled down and petted her.

"How's it goin', Little," Peter asked the puppy. Little responded by looking at him with her big, bright eyes, huffing, and letting out a woof twice. Both Peter and Margaret laughed.

Peter stood up and turned to Margaret. "Now, hold very still."

"Why?"

"So that I can check over you and see if Tinker Bell hurt you or anything."

Although she understood him, Margaret narrowed her eyes. "Why would you do that? She promised you that she would watch over me without harming me. Don't you trust her?"

"Sure I do," Peter answered. "I just don't trust her whenever she gets jealous."

"Right," Margaret nodded. She remembered last night when she gave Tinker Bell an opportunity to hurt her. But, thankfully, the fairy didn't and couldn't do it. Maybe that was a good thing, because, if Tinker Bell had stabbed the needle on Margaret's arm and Peter saw the wounded arm, then Peter might immediately blame the fairy, even if Margaret tried to put the blame on herself instead of Tinker Bell.

"Speaking of Tink, where is she," Peter asked, interrupting Margaret's thoughts.

Margaret turned around and was about to point at the tepee that she and the fairy had slept in, when she spotted Tinker Bell flying out of the tepee.

"Ah, there you are, Tink," Peter said once Tinker Bell came up to them. She waved at Peter in greeting, her face beaming, despite the pixie glow of her skin, at Peter.

"And now," Peter continued. "Let's start with the inspection."

Without warning, Peter gripped Margaret's chin and moved her face toward his. His eyes scanned her entire face, searching for any scars or bruises, and muttered a satisfied, "Mmm-hmmm," when he found none.

Then, his eyes moved down to her neck, checking over it, and nodded with another "Mmm-hmmm." Then he looked up and down Margaret's body and nodded. He raised one of her arms, pulling the robe sleeve back to check her bare arm, which was clear. He moved over to her other arm and, beside her bandaged arm, still wounded from yesterday, her arm was fine and well. And then, with a smirk, Peter lowered himself onto his knees and gripped on the bottom of Margaret's nightdress, preparing to pull it up so he could check her legs.

Before Peter pulled it up completely, Margaret shrieked, stepping away from Peter and kicked him away from her.

"Geesh, you're one, abusive lady," Peter commented as he rubbed his bruised stomach, where Margaret had kicked him. "I was just checking your legs!"

"Well, if my legs were injured, which they're not, I wouldn't be standing, would I?" Margaret retorted, clutching her nightdress; pulling it down and away from Peter.

"Fair enough," Peter said, as he stood up. He took one last look around her (much to Margaret's annoyance and insistence that she was fine) and finally nodded. "Well, you look clean." He turned to Tinker Bell. "Nice job, Tink. You kept your promise. I guess that means you're no longer banished." Tinker Bell smiled, but it didn't seem to reach her eyes like other times she smiled at Peter before. "Still doesn't excuse you from nearly killing Margaret, like you tried to kill Wendy."

"Wendy?" Margaret asked, a sudden, strong feeling as if she should very well know who Wendy was.

"Yeah. Tink got the Lost Boys to try to kill her, convincing them that I ordered them to shoot her down."

"Oh, I hope she was alright," Margaret said. She didn't notice Tinker Bell's shocked look at Margaret. "Speaking of the Lost Boys, where are they?"

"They have gone off hunting," the Chief answered her, reminding her of his presence. "Along with the young men of my tribe. Perhaps, they left together to play a sport on who can capture the most beasts."

"I'll bet you anything the Lost Boys will win," Peter said proudly.

"So, where have you been last night," Margaret suddenly asked Peter. She had been wanting and waiting to ask him since last night, wondering why he would miss a party that was all about him.

"Nowhere important," Peter shrugged off. "So, how was the festival? Was it fun?"

Margaret was caught off guard from Peter's quick change of topic. It only made her more suspicious.

"It was great, but Peter-"

"I'm sorry I missed it, then. So, you still want me to teach you sword fighting?"

Margaret frowned at him, extremely curious at what secret he was holding and was a little hurt that he's holding it from her. Instead, promising to ask him later, she nodded at him.

"Alright, then. Since, you've been a good, little girl," (he ignored Margaret's scowl). "I'll be happy to teach you on what I know."

Margaret beamed. She's finally going to learn sword fighting. This way, she will have a sure chance on defending herself from pirates. In addition, this teaching could be fun.

Little's barking interrupted Margaret's thoughts, having made her realize that her puppy was still there with her. She looked down at Little, who was staring at her with bright eyes and swishing her tiny tail.

Margaret turned to Peter. "What about Little?"

Peter looked down at Little, studying her. He kneeled down and rubbed his chin in deep thought. Finally, he said, "Nope, don't think I can teach a puppy to swordfight."

Margaret giggled, but stopped when she saw Little's face drop, a soft whimper escaping her. In pity, Margaret got down on her knees and petted her sad puppy. "Don't feel bad, Little. You would have been a great sword fighter." Little glanced up and Margaret could see her small smile, feeling a bit better.

"Hey, Little," Peter interrupted their moment. "Why don't you hang out with the Lost Boys? I'm sure they would love to have you with them!"

Little gave out a cheerful bark that must have meant yes.

"But we don't know where they are," Margaret pointed out. "How will we find them and bring Little to them?"

The Indian Chief, who had just finished a quick conversation with Tiger Lily, suddenly stepped forward and announced, "My daughter has volunteered to take your animal to the Lost Boys. She knows where they have gone; she knows the forest well. She will safely escort the Mate's dog to Flying Eagle's followers."

Shocked, Margaret turned to Tiger Lily, who grinned and nodded in confirmation. She was touched that the Indian princess wanted to do something nice for her, perhaps in return for her kindness to the princess last night. Delighted, Margaret picked up Little, walked over to Tiger Lily, and, after sharing a silent moment exchanging understanding and friendly looks, Margaret slowly held Little out to her. Tiger Lily gently took the puppy and cradled Little as if she was the princess' own baby. Little looked very unsure at Tiger Lily, but, after glancing at Margaret's assured face, Little cuddled against Tiger Lily. Without another word, Tiger Lily walked by a tent, obtained a spear that leaned against it, and disappeared into the forest, with Little in her arms.

Margaret paused for a moment, saddened that Little is gone once again. She wasn't sure if she could get use to this separation from her lifelong friend.

Peter, who watched the whole thing in disbelief, slowly asked Margaret, "Okay, what just happened between you two? Did you girls become friends?"

Margaret shrugged, not leaving her eyes from where Tiger Lily and Little once were. She still felt the pang of lost from the separation, only it was more of a feeling that she would not see Little for a long time. But that was ridicules; she will see Little soon enough.

"Don't know," she finally answered, slowly moving her eyes away from the forest to Peter, the Chief, and Tinker Bell, still flying beside Peter with a strange look as if she was trying to look inside Margaret's soul. "All I know is that we don't hate each other anymore."

Peter was silent for a moment, possibly not comprehending anything. But then he shrugged it off, as if it wasn't really important enough. "You girls are so strange." Margaret smirked at him. He held out his hand to her. "Shall we, then?"

Margaret gave him a warm smile and took his hand. "We shall."

Without leaving her eyes, Peter floated up to the sky, with his hands tightly clasping onto Margaret's.

*PPIII*

Tinker Bell had to look away, her blood boiling at the knowledge that Peter had completely ignoring her once again and it hurt her that he was definitely _not_ ignoring Margaret, taking her far away with him so that they could spend more time _together_.

Suddenly, a thought ran into her brain. Her doll. Margaret's Peter Pan doll. It was still back at the tent. And Margaret never thought to retrieve it. Had she forgotten about it (_maybe so, with Peter invading Margaret's mind_, Tinker Bell thought angrily)?

But what about her asking if Wendy was alright? Didn't she know that Wendy, _her grandmother_, was obviously alright? Did she forget her own grandmother as well?

Tinker Bell shook her head. No, that was impossible. Margaret could never forget those things. Wendy and Jane didn't forget anything when _they_ were in Neverland.

Then again, they've never stayed in Neverland for so long before. Could being here for a long period of time have an effect on anyone's memories? On Margaret's memories? Would they become permanent? Would she forget everything about London and end up staying in Neverland forever?

Refusing to believe so, she zoomed to the tent, took hold of the doll, and shot up into the sky in search of Peter and Margaret. There was only one way she would for sure know if Margaret was losing her memories: if Margaret didn't recognize her own doll, then there was something very wrong with her and her mind.

Tinker Bell searched the forest for the pair, avoiding a section where she could hear the Indian boys' and the Lost Boys' ululation and Little's barking. Along the way, she couldn't help but remember Margaret's kindness toward her, despite all the evil things Tink had done to her. If Margaret and Peter didn't like each other, there might have been a possibility that Tink and Margaret could be good friends. That only worsened her guilt toward Margaret. Not only that, but, ever since her conversation with Mother Dove, there seem to be a war going on in her head that kept shouting at her on what to do. One side reminds her that Peter really likes Margaret and Margaret must be disposed of in order to gain Peter's attention back to her. Another side, the voice that sounded a lot like Mother Dove, told her that Margaret adores Tink and that it was wrong for her to harm Margaret. Even last night, when Tink was given the opportunity to hurt Margaret, the war of voices raged in her head, telling her what to do, and Tink panicked like never before. The voices were so loud and pressured her so much that, in the end, Tink did the first thing her fairy instinct told her to do: throw away the needle. Her action and the voices in her head had a strong impact on Tink that she broke into crying afterward. She had never gone through such pressure before in her life and it really scared her.

Tink clutched onto the Peter Pan doll at the horrid thought. She never wanted to be scared at all. She was suppose to be the brave one, not the coward one. What was wrong with her?

Finally, she found Peter and Margaret down at a clearing, playfully and slowly sword fighting each other. Tink flew down and landed on a tree limb, watching the couple as Peter taught Margaret some techniques and examples in sword fighting, with Margaret listening to his every word. Tink scowled as Peter held Margaret's hands that were gripping on a sword and waved it around, showing her the correct movement. Both were smiling, having a very touching moment between each other, making Tink sick to her stomach.

She grabbed onto the doll's arm, completely ready to interrupt them.

"Tink!" A distant voice suddenly called out. Tink froze, glancing over at Peter, but he didn't appear to have called for her. Then who . . .

"Tinker Bell!" There it was again. Tink searched the forest, feeling as if she knew that voice.

"Terence?" Tink mumbled.

"Tink!" the voice called louder.

"Terence," she confirmed as she jumped up, flying toward the direction of the voice, leaving the doll behind. And, sure enough, there was Terence, the pixie dust fairy and one of her best friends from Pixie Hallows. But what was he doing outside of Pixie Hallows.

"Tink, there you are," Terence said once he saw her approaching to him. "I've been looking all over for you!"

"But why," Tink asked, noting his distressed and anxious face. "What's wrong?"

"Something happened last night," Terence explained as he pulled her down so both of them were standing on a tree branch. "And Queen Clarion is ordering all of the fairies to report to the Pixie Hallow Tree right now!"

"Right now," Tink asked as she turned her head to the direction of where Peter Pan was, worried about leaving him without telling him. Then she scowled, reminding herself that Margaret was there with him; she'll keep him company. "Alright, let's go!"

They floated up and zoomed across the forest together.

"Hey, Terence," Tinker Bell spoke as she flew alongside him. "How did you find me here, anyway?"

"Lucky guess," Terence replied. "I just thought you would be around here, looking for Lost Things."

"Oh, right," Tink looked away, feeling ashamed for lying to him.

Before they knew it, they made it to Pixie Hallows and Tink suddenly halted in shock at the sight before her.

There were obvious signs that there was an intruder here last night. Trails of giant footprints were found from the forest to the Pixie Hallow Tree, then another trail leading back to the forest. Among the footprints were crushed flowers, ruined homes of some garden fairies, who were able to escape just in time. Most of the fairies' creations have also been smashed by the footprints. Although not all Pixie Hallows was in shambles, it was still the worst sight Tinker Bell had ever seen.

Terence placed his hand on her shoulder in comfort. "No one got hurt, Tink," he assured her. "And we can always replace all this stuff."

Tink nodded. "Who could have done such a thing?"

"Well, let's find out. Come on."

They silently flew to the Pixie Hallow Tree, where all of the fairies, every different types of fairies, gathered in the Tree. Everyone of them was talking amongst each other at the same time, very loudly in fact. Tink then spotted some of her friends among the crowd together, including Silvermist, Fawn, and Iridessa. When her friends saw Tink, they waved to her, all wearing the exact same expression on their faces as Terence had before.

"What's going on," Tink immediately asked them after she greeted them.

"Oh, it was so terrible," Rosetta wailed, drying her eyes with her pink handkerchief. "There was some sort of strange earthquake and we Garden Fairies went out to see what it was! Then, before we knew it, our flower homes were crushed by that humongous monster!" She blew her nose and Silvermist rubbed her back soothingly in comfort.

Silvermist turned to Tink. "We don't know who the monster was; it was took dark to see anything. We were unprepared and, before we were ready to attack, the monster was gone."

"Just like that," Tink asked. They nodded. "But what did that monster want?"

"We don't know," Fawn answered. "But it sure scared Mother Dove." She pointed up at the nest of Mother Dove, where some of the Animal Fairies, including one of Tink's other friends, Beck, surrounded the bird as if to act as a wall around the bird.

Tink became worried for Mother Dove, wanting desperately to fly up and see if she was okay. But, before she could act, a bright light flashed and the fairy leader, Queen Clarion, appeared before them, silencing all of the fairies.

The only sound to be hear was crying from the nest. Was that Mother Dove?

"Fairies," Queen Clarion greeted with the most despairing look Tink had ever seen her. It must be very serious. "The most terrible thing has happened last night. Pixie Hallow was invaded by a human." There was a slight mumble amongst the fairies. "This human had crushed many homes of the Garden Fairies," she paused when some of the Garden Fairies wailed, including Rosetta. "And destroyed all of our handiwork that we worked so hard on accomplishing." Many of the fairies nodded in agreement. "But this human had done the worst of them all: stealing Mother Dove's Egg."

Everyone of the fairies gasped in horror. The weeping, which was now known to be Mother Dove's, cried louder and the Animal Fairies assisting her tried to comfort her.

"This may be, not only the most devastating, but the most dangerous occurrence that has ever happened here in Pixie Hallows. Now, I've had the Animal Fairies talk with dear Mother Dove and . . ."

She suddenly stopped, because a hand had popped up among the crowd. Tink recognized that hand belonging to another friend of hers: Prilla.

"Yes, Prilla," Queen Clarion kindly called for. Prilla flew out of the crowd and landed in front of the Queen.

"Um, I was wondering, why is terrible that the human stole an egg? Couldn't Mother Dove lay another egg?"

Another gasped fell into the crowd, as if Prilla had accidentally offended them. Then, the fairies started shouting at poor Prilla, saying things like, "How could you say such thing," and, "How could you hurt sweet Mother Dove like that!" Tink instantly flew to Prilla's aid, as well as her other fairy friend, Rani (though she ran to Prilla, for she had no wings). Prilla, now very scared, hid herself in the comfort of Tink and Rani.

"SILENCE!" Fairy Mary suddenly shrieked with a booming voice, instantaneously silencing the fairies. With a satisfied look, she returned to her Tinker Fairies.

"Thank you, Fairy Mary," Queen Clarion said. Addressing to the fairies, she said, "As you all should know, Prilla is still new to Pixie Hallow and does not know everything." All the fairies bowed their heads in shame. "So, we must tell her why this is extremely important to us." She turned to Prilla, who bravely stood forward, with both Tink and Rani behind her. "Prilla," Queen Clarion began in a gentle voice. "When we rescued Mother Dove and saved her life many years ago, we also helped her lay one very special Egg. However, Mother Dove's past scars had prevented her from laying any more eggs, so she is left with just one." Prilla looked down in sadness. "But that is not just why her Egg is so special. You see, her Egg contains very powerful pixie dusts, possibly from our dusts that had healed Mother Dove. And with these pixie dusts, it gives the Egg very powerful magic, one that must be careful and not be tampered on. You remember when the Egg cracked once, right? Well, it seems as if the Egg has a full connection to Neverland because of this magic, and, when the Egg cracked, Neverland slowly lost its magic. And, once the Egg healed, the magic of Neverland was saved. Now, we don't know exactly what would happen if humans have the Egg in their possessions, but it could be very dangerous, not just to us, but to Neverland itself."

Prilla was lost in thought and so was Tink. She thought of what would happened to Peter, Margaret, and the Lost Boys if something dreadful happened to them because of the Egg.

"Is there any way we can find the Egg," Prilla asked politely.

Queen Clarion smiled. "I'm sure we can find a way. But, right now, we need to know who exactly stole the Egg."

"Why don't we just fly all over Neverland to find it," shouted out Vidia, the fast-flying fairy.

"It would take too much time," answered the fairy queen. "Besides, it would be much wiser to find who stole the Egg, so we will know who to look for."

"What did the Animal Fairies say about Mother Dove," Rani came forward and asked.

Queen Clarion turned her head to the nest. "Beck, would you please come down?"

Beck flew down from Mother Dove's nest and landed next to Queen Clarion, smiling at Tink in greeting as Tink smiled back.

"How is Mother Dove," the Queen asked.

"She's still crying, Queen Clarion. She can't eat or sleep. She just kept begging for her Egg to come back. She's scared to death for her Egg."

"Did she say anything about the human that attacked her last night?"

"Well, it took us a while to calm her down, but I think we were able to get a general description."

"And what would that be?"

Beck paused for a moment before she spoke. "She couldn't really tell who it was; it was really dark. But, from the light of the pixies dusts from the Tree, she saw that the human was, in fact, a man, had a large nose, square glasses, and a red nightcap."

It was like a cannon fired in Tink's head at those extremely familiar descriptions. "Did this man wear a blue and white stripped shirt?"

All the fairies looked at Tink in surprise. "Yeah," Beck answered. "He did."

Tink felt as if blood was pouring out of her.

"Tinker Bell," Queen Clarion said, curiously looking at the tinker fairy. "Do you know this human that attacked Mother Dove?"

"Uh, yeah. I do. But I really doubt he would intentionally attack Mother Dove; he's really dim-witted."

"If you know who this human is, Tinker Bell, then please tell us about him."

Tinker Bell stepped forward in front of Prilla and Rani. "His name is Mr. Smee. He's a pirate and he works for Captain Hook, the most feared pirate of the seven seas. No doubt Smee would have taken the Egg to Hook right this minute."

All the fairies panicked at this information and they worriedly chatted amongst themselves, Mother Dove's cries had intensify, as if she had heard the news of the whereabouts of her baby.

All at once, Queen Clarion blinded everyone with a bright light of her scepter and there was again silence. She turned to Tink. "Tinker Bell, because of your knowledge on these humans, it seems fitting to have you go on this quest to find the Egg and bring it back safely to us before any danger falls before it."

Tink bowed to her Queen. "Don't worry; I'll bring the Egg back. It shouldn't take more than a day to retrieve it," she smirked arrogantly, knowing what she's doing.

"Would you like your friends to accompany you on your quest?"

"That's alright, they can stay here and help clean up the place. Besides, I've got other friends here in Neverland that can help."

"Very well. Just remember: if you need help, don't hesitate to come find us. And don't forget: the fate of Neverland rests in your hands."

Tink smiled a grin that Peter Pan would be proud of. "Isn't it always?"

*PPIII*

The sky was bright, clear, and sunny as Mr. Smee made his way to the captain's cabin, whistling happily. He was carrying a basket of eggs on one hand and a pile of logs tucked under his other arm.

With his hands full, he kicked the door open and walked right in, pushing the door closed with his foot.

"Good morning, Captain!" Mr. Smee exclaimed. Captain Hook ignored him. He was sitting on his desk, in deep thought. He was looking down at his map of Neverland, staring intensely at it.

Mr. Smee, humming cheerfully, walked over to an empty space by the corner of the cabin. There was a stone-made stove, heated up by a small furnace inside it.

"Don't mind me, Captain," Mr. Smee chirped a little too loud for Hook's pleasure. "I'm just here to cook your breakfast. The others don't want me using their stove anymore. So, I hope you don't mind, do you?"

Hook only grumbled, mentally planning on punishing those pirates that brought Smee to him.

"Now, let me get this thing started now." Mr. Smee set the basket of eggs down and put the logs inside the stove. "I know how much you like your hard boiled eggs for breakfast, and I made sure to get the best eggs I could find last night."

Hook glanced his eyes irritably at Smee, then moved back to his map.

"Although," Smee continued, lighting a match and throwing it in the furnace. "I did have to steal one egg from that poor, lovely dove. She sure was pretty protective of that egg of hers." He gently blew at a weak fire to give it strength. "Maybe I should return her egg." He turned to a basket full of identical eggs. "If only I knew which one it was."

"Smee," Hook pounded his fist against his desk. "Will you stop your useless jabber and just cook my breakfast, before I make you my breakfast?"

"Yes, Captain!" Smee jumped, saluting to Hook. "Of course, Captain! Right away, Captain!"

"And hurry it up!" Hook ordered once his back was to Smee.

"Yes, yes, yes, hurry, hurry!" Smee said frantically, afraid that he had upset his Captain, as he quickly pulled a saucepan out from a trunk, poured Hook's drinking water he found on Hook's desk into the saucepan, and settled it over the stove. He pulled the basket next to him and picked up the first egg in sight. This Egg was faintly shining with gold glitter, capturing Smee's eyes.

"My, aren't you a pretty, little egg," Smee muttered in awe.

"Smee!"

Smee flinched. "Oh, yes, sorry, sir!"

Smee was about to drop the Egg into the pot to cook it, when he noticed no smoke coming out of the stove. With the Egg in his hand, Smee looked inside the stove and saw that the fire had already died down.

"Oh dear, the fire's gone!" He reached in his pocket for another match to light, but found no more matches in his pocket. He sighed sadly. "And there's no way to start the fire."

Hook just rolled his eyes at the idiocy of his first mate.

Smee rested one hand on his cheek and lay the other hand, still holding the Egg, on his lap.

He sighed again and closed his eyes. "I sure wish the fire would start on its own."

As Smee was in his little world, he failed to see the Egg unexpectedly glowing. A small speck of pixie dusts rose from the Egg and flew straight to the burnt wood inside the stove. The entire wood was soon covered with pixie dusts. Then, the pixie dusts slowly turned into fire, burning the wood. The fire was stronger and fierce than the fire before. Once the fire started, the Egg faded back into a regular Egg, as if nothing magical had happened.

Smee's big nose suddenly picked up the smell of smoke coming from inside the stove. Smee opened his eyes and saw a fire flaming inside.

Smee's eyes brightened with joy and he jumped up, cheering. "Oh, it's a miracle, it's a miracle! A fire coming out of nowhere! Oh, how wonderful!"

Hook's head popped up at those words. He turned around to see Smee dancing very silly in front of the stove, with a healthy fire inside. How could that be, when Smee never set the wood on fire.

But his suspicious mind got distracted by Smee's very strange dancing, which was just him hopping and skipping and doing some ballet like a mad man. Hook was extremely grateful they were the only one in his cabin.

"Smee," Hook tried to get his first mate's attention. Smee was now twirling around. "SMEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Finally, Smee stopped, only to trip and fall down, but raised his Egg-carried hand high above the floor.

Hook narrowed his eyes at Smee. "First off, don't EVER do that again! It's just fire! Second, just start cooking my breakfast, or I'll feed you to the octopus!"

"Aye, aye, sir!" Smee said, saluting from the floor. He picked himself up and walked back to the stove. He looked over the water-filled saucepan, seeing it not boiling yet. He looked around the area, his eyes searching for something.

"Mmmmm," Smee muttered. "I thought I had that wooden spoon with me." He went back to the trunk and looked inside. When he didn't see the spoon, he dunk his head inside and searched for it beneath other materials, using his free hand to move or pull stuff out of the way.

Hook's eyes spotted a few stuff that flew out of the trunk and groaned in frustration. Having enough of it, he stood up and walked over to his cabinet, where he kept his "special" bottle of drinks in it. Perhaps one drink would make him forget Smee for a little while.

Finally, Smee's head pulled out from inside the trunk, his face covered with unhappiness. "I wonder where I put that spoon. I wish I had the spoon with me now."

Lost in misery for his missing spoon, Smee, once again, did not see the Egg, still in his hand, glowing again. The Egg glittered and released a cloud of pixie dust from it. The dust flew through the air and headed toward Hook. Just as Hook opened his cabinet, the golden pixie dusts entered inside the cabinet, revealing itself before Hook's wide eyes. Hook was so shocked at the strange sight that he froze and just stared as the pixie dust came out, gripping onto a wooden spoon. The sparkling dust brought the spoon over to Smee. Hook's eyes followed the pixie dusts' every move as the dust dropped the spoon in front of Smee and disappeared; the Egg's glow faded once again, returning normal as it was before.

Hook could not believe what he had just saw. Pixie dusts, from nowhere, appeared right before his eyes and brought the spoon to Smee, like he had wished it-

Wished.

"Ah, there you are, you little rascal," Smee happily said to the spoon. As if it was normal for spoons to appear out of nowhere, he picked up the spoon and made his way back to the stove, where the water was beginning to boil. Meanwhile, Hook stared at Smee in astonishment, unable to think. His beady eyes caught the Egg in Smee's hand, which got him thinking.

Smee finally placed the Egg on the spoon. "Well, get ready to dive," he said as he lowered the spoon into the boiling water, insuring the Egg of its upcoming death.

Suddenly, before the spoon could touch the surface of the boiling water, Hook grabbed Smee's wrist, stopping him. "Wait, Smee."

"Did you want me to add flavor on the egg, Captain?"

Hook's eyes were curiously on the Egg. "No." He pulled the arm up, causing Smee to look at him questionably.

"Captain?"

"Do that again?"

Smee was confused. "Do what again?"

Hook took the Egg and placed it on Smee's hand. "Wish for something. Now."

"Oh, uh, okay Captain. Let's see." He put his finger on his chin and lost himself in his mind. He did this for a while and Hook was getting very impatient.

"SMEEEE!"

Smee jumped, almost dropping the Egg. "Oh, oh, right, right, a wish, make a wish. Hmmm." His eyes brightened. "Oh, I know! I wish I had more matches in my pocket."

Hook raised his eyebrow in disbelief, but then a great distraction happened. The Egg in Smee's hand glowed once again and a speck of pixie dusts flew up from the Egg and soared over to Smee's pocket. Both Hook and Smee saw the whole thing and they were speechless. Then, the Egg's light dimmed back into normality. Slowly, Smee pulled out his matches case out of his pocket, which doesn't look like it was touched by pixie dusts, and opened it. There, a fresh new line of matches were found inside the case, as if Smee had never run out of them.

"Oh, how wonderful," Smee rejoiced. "My wish came true! Wonderful!"

"Yes," Hook mumbled, staring in awe at the Egg. "Wonderful." He took the Egg from Smee and ordered, "Now, wish for something else."

"Oh, alright then, uh, how bout a coconut cream pie! I've always wanted one myself! I wish I had one!" Smee held out his hands, as if expecting a pie to come out of thin air and land on his hands. However, after a minute waiting, no pie has appeared and Smee's face dropped in misery.

With his hand firmly but gently gripping on the Egg, Hook muttered, "I wish I had coconut cream pie." The Egg glowed and another cloud of pixie dusts left the Egg and, hovering over the two men, created a coconut cream pie out of thin air. Then, the pixie dusts disappeared, along with the glow of the Egg, and the pie fell straight down, only to be saved by Smee just in time.

"Why, thank you, Captain! But you know, we can't have dessert for breakfast; we'll have to wait until after lunch, or maybe after dinner!"

But Hook was no longer listening to Smee. His full attention was on the Egg that was in his hand. He slowly walked to his desk, silent in thought, until finally he spoke. "Smee. Do you know what this is?"

"Your breakfast?"

"This, Smee, could be the answer to our problems." The next thing Smee knew, Hook said out loud, "I wish my ship was fixed in its proper state."

The Egg glowed like the sun in the sky and pixie dusts came flying out of the Egg and out the cabin. Without a word, Hook and Smee followed it.

The pixie dusts zoomed right across the fort, attracting very perplexed pirates. With Hook in front, they all ran after it, running out of the fort. They followed the pixie dust all the way to the lagoon. They stopped once they've reached to the edge of the shore. However, the pixie dusts floated out over the waters, halting when it was out into the open ocean. Then, the cloud of pixie dusts broke apart into pieces and each flew off into different directions. One cloud of pixie dusts went straight down into the ocean, while the other cloud flew back to the shores, toward a pile of scraps from Hook's ship that the pirates were able to recover. All the pirates watched in shock and awe as the pixie dusts carried every one of the scraps out across the ocean.

"Look!" a pirate exclaimed, pointing out at the ocean. There, before their eyes, the cloud of pixie dusts that dove into the ocean resurfaced. But it was pulling something from the depths. It was large, wrecked, glittered from the pixie dusts, covered in seaweed and barnacles, and looked extremely familiar.

Hook's eyes widened. He knew what it was.

"Captain," Smee spoke in complete amazement. "It's the ship!"

Hook slowly nodded. It was the Jolly Roger. And the pixie dust was pulling his ship above to the surface.

When the ship was a few inches above the surface, the pixie dusts that carried the scraps flew straight to it and placed all the scraps on the holes of the ship. And then, the pixie dust cleaned the entire ship and settled it on the surface, where the ship did not sink back to the bottom of the ocean. Soon, the ship was repaired and the pixie dust faded into nothingness.

Hook and his crew were frozen for a moment, staring straight at what the pixie dusts had done right before their eyes.

The Jolly Roger sailed again.

"Well, don't just stand there," Hook finally shouted at his men. "Get to the longboats and onto the ship!"

As if a silent spell was broken, the pirates joyfully cheered for their ship's rebirth and they ran to their longboats, sailing off toward it. Hook and Smee equally ran excitedly to their longboat and led the way.

When they finally arrived to the ship, everyone got onboard and immediately explored the place, checking to see if it was the same ship they had sailed for years. Hook just stood there, taking it all in. This was his ship. His revived ship, back in its glory state. Just as he wished for it. He slowly glided his hand on the helm in peace, even though the helm felt wet and sticky from the ocean. His hand tightened onto the helm, a content smile on his face. He had a giant urge to embrace it as if hugging a long lost friend. His eyes scanned the ship, feeling like he had just returned home after a long departure.

"Captain," Smee called out to him from the main deck. "You must see your cabin; it hasn't changed at all!"

Hook wordlessly walked to the main deck and, after pausing to see his name pasted on the door, he entered his cabin that he had been longing to be in.

Just as Smee had said, his cabin had not changed a bit. His desk was the same, his window was the same, his piano was the same as well. It was more big and beautiful than his fort cabin. He slowly made his way over to his desk, where the map of Neverland laid (though it was very soggy). He looked up at his window, stepping toward it as if he was walking in a dream, which Hook felt he was in. As he stared outside, where he saw Skull Rock and beyond, Hook still could not believe his luck. He got his ship back after so long. He now felt complete again. Not even the blasted Peter Pan could spoil his happiness of that moment. He felt like he was on top of the world; he had regain ultimate power that had been taken away from him when his ship sank. And now he can do just about anything with his mighty ship, the Jolly Roger.

He took out the Egg he had in his pocket and stared at it. Wherever this Egg came from, it had given him back what he wanted most in this entire world. If this Egg had never been in his possessions, none of this would have been possible. He imagined how much power this Egg could give him; how much power Hook would have from this Egg. He thought of what he could wish for from the Egg. He could wish himself a new hand to replace his hook hand. He could wish for dominance over the world. He could wish to be the most powerful pirate in history. He could wish for Peter Pan's immediate death . . .

Hook smiled wickedly at that thought.

"Oh, captain," Smee cried, interrupting Hook's thoughts. He forgot Smee followed him inside. "Isn't this wonderful! We have the Jolly Roger back! And, of course, you must be feeling very happy too, aren't you?" He stopped when he saw Hook's evil grin. "Uh, Captain, what are you thinking about?"

Hook held the Egg out in Smee's viewpoint. "This Egg, Smee, is the ticket to complete power. It can grant any wish to anyone who holds it. Think of what I could wish for, Smee. I can wish for anything!"

"Like getting your ship back?"

"Yes, Smee." Hook moved the Egg close to his eyes. "Like getting my ship back."

"Are you going to wish your hand back then, Captain," Smee asked.

Hook glanced at his hook hand before answering. "I could wish for it back, but then I would have no reason to attack Peter Pan. Besides," Hook waved his hook hand. "It's been so long since I've had a real hand. I don't know if I can be myself if I don't have my hooked hand anymore."

"Oh yes, then we won't have to call you Captain Hook anymore, huh? We would have to call you Captain-"

"I much rather use this Egg to accomplish my greatest goal," Hook interrupted, an evil gleam shining on his eyes.

Smee gasped. "You're not going to wish Peter Pan's immediate death, are you?"

Hook paused, which made Smee nervous. Finally, Hook replied. "No, Smee. I much rather do the most civilized and proper way. I want to capture Peter Pan and kill him myself. But, all I need for this Egg to do is to make it easy to catch; make him too weak to escape."

"So, what are you going to do about Peter Pan?"

"What am _I _going to do, Mr. Smee?" Hook looked down on the Egg. "I'll make a simple wish, of course." He walked to his window, pushed it wide open, and said one evil wish to the Egg that could bring Peter Pan down once and for all.

"I wish Peter Pan was so heartbroken, that he will have no happy thoughts left to make him fly."


	13. Ch12 Hearts Broken

**Hearts Broken**

"Not bad, for your first try," Peter commented with a cheeky grin as the tip of Margaret's wooden sword pointed at his throat.

"I'm a fast learner," Margaret replied with the same cheeky smile.

They had spent a while sword fighting, with Peter teaching and Margaret learning. However, there wasn't much to learn after watching Peter and Hook sword fighting. And Margaret was sure she had learned more of Peter's fighting skills from stories somewhere, but she paid little attention to that.

And with everything she learned, Margaret was able to attack Peter, knocking his sword away and pointing her sword at him.

Margaret had won the duel.

"You got lucky," Peter said as Margaret lowered her sword.

Margaret rolled her eyes. "Sure, I did. Face it, Pan! You just don't like the fact that you lost to a girl!"

"I didn't lose! Peter Pan never loses!" he said with confident, his fisted hands on his hips. "I just made it easy for you to win! That's what teachers do!"

Margaret shook her head. "Right." She picked up Peter's sword from the ground and threw it to him, which he caught. "I'm getting tired. Can we go back to Hangman Jr.'s Tree?"

"Sure, let's go." He walked up to Margaret, took her hand in his, and then floated up. But Margaret stopped him by pulling him down.

"Wait, let's not fly this time."

Peter looked shockingly at her. "What? Why?"

"It's nice out here. Why don't we just walk instead?"

"But what if we run into danger?"

Margaret warmly smiled at him and kissed his cheek. "Then you can fly us the rest of the way."

Peter's cheeks reddened for a second, but it disappeared and Peter nodded in agreement. "Alright. Your choice. Let's go have your walk, then."

He headed off into the forest and Margaret followed behind. She suddenly stopped when her eyes caught something in a tree close to the clearing. While Peter continued walking ahead, not looking back once, Margaret walked closer to look clearly at the figure.

There, sitting on a tree limb, was a small doll. Nut just an ordinary doll, but a doll that looked very much like Peter Pan himself.

Her eyes widened in surprise at the sight. She looked around to see if the doll belonged to anyone. But she was alone. Slowly, she reached out and picked up the doll gently in her hands.

As she studied the doll, she felt an overwhelming feeling that, somehow, she knew where this doll came from and who it belongs to. But nothing in her memories could identify the doll and its significance to her. Perhaps it belongs to someone she knows. Perhaps it belongs to one of the Lost Boys. Or maybe it belongs to Peter, since the doll strongly resembled him.

But something was telling her it didn't belong to any of them.

Then, who did it belong to?

Maybe it belongs to someone who made it. But who would have the talent to sew a beautiful doll like this. The talent of sewing usually falls onto the mother-

The mother.

There are no mothers here in Neverland. But Margaret was pretty sure she had a mother that didn't live here in Neverland. She would always sew dolls for her.

Wait, did she?

Margaret tried to think of her mother; trying to remember her. However, to her horror, she could not remember her own mother at all.

As she urgently searched for memories of her mother, she realized that, the more she thought of her old life before Neverland, the more she realized that she has forgotten about them. She doesn't remember her original home, her family, her bedroom, anything! She doesn't even remember what her mother, or any of her family members, look like! All she could get out of her brain was an image of an old woman, and hearing another woman's voice in an argument-

Oh no.

Margaret must have fought with her mother before she left to Neverland. Does her mother even know where she is? Is she heartbroken that Margaret never returned? Margaret felt so terrible to realize that the last time she was with her mother, they had been angry at each other. Margaret never bothered to say goodbye.

She has to get back and set things right.

"Hey, Margaret!" She jumped at the voice behind her, clutching the doll against her chest. She turned around to see Peter flying before her with a happy, oblivious look.

He landed in front of her. "Something wrong?" His eyes caught the doll in her arms. "Or do you just like hugging your doll with that look."

Margaret froze. "My doll?"

"Well, yeah. You did bring it with you," he answered as if it was obvious. But it wasn't obvious to her.

She looked down at this doll and stared at it. So, this was her doll. Why couldn't she remember that? Her thumb gently rubbed the doll's face, forgetting about Peter, until she asked him, "From where?"

"Huh?"

Margaret looked up with pleading eyes. "Where did I live? Before Neverland?"

Peter raised his eyebrow. "You came from London, remember?"

Margaret stared off into space, letting his answer sink in. "No," she whispered to herself. "No, I don't."

Whether Peter heard her or not, he only shrugged as if it was no big deal, and said, "Well, we better get going. Come on, Margaret."

He jumped up in the air and flew off. He looked back and suddenly halted when he saw that Margaret wasn't following him. He flew back to her, looking confused by the minute.

"Um, Margaret, are you okay?" Margaret didn't answer, only clutching her doll tighter to her heart. Her eyes began to get teary as the majority of her memory has been wiped clean.

Peter frowned at her. Worry was making it's way to his face as Margaret remained unchanged. "Are you hurt, or something? Please, say something!"

Still, Margaret was silent.

"Alright," Peter said, finally having enough of Margaret's scary silent. "What's going on with you? What do you want?"

"I want to go home."

Peter stepped back in shock. "What?"

Margaret's teary eyes slowly turned to Peter. "I want to go home."

Peter paused for a moment, then grinned. "Oh, okay, then." He grabbed her hand and pulled her forward. "Let's get back to Hangman Jr-"

"No," Margaret interrupted him, violently ripping her hand from him (which stunned Peter). "I mean I want to go home . . . To my home. To London."

Peter's face burst into shock at this. "What? Why? I thought you hate it there."

"Well, I can't seem to remember me hating London, let alone London itself!" Margaret replied harshly. Peter's eyes flashed with hurt at her tone, his floating body sinking back on the ground. Noticing Peter's reaction, Margaret took a deep breath to calm herself and spoke in a cool voice. "Peter, I can't remember my home, my childhood, or my family. They must be so worried about me." she added to herself in a quiet and regretful voice. Turning to Peter, she said, "I have to go back before I completely forget about them. Please take me back to London."

"No!"

Margaret was taken aback. "No?"

"I mean, just stay a bit longer. We can have some more fun here before you go."

"Peter-"

"We can go swimming, or go hunting for treasure, or explore the-"

"Peter!" Margaret shouted. Peter fell silent. "You do know I'll have to go back sooner or later, right? I can't really stay here forever"

"But-"

"And besides, I can't stay here for another day! Don't you understand? The longer I stay, the more I forget! I need to find Little and get us out of here!"

"But what about growing up," Peter questioned her. "Or you moving someplace far away from London? If you go back, you'll have to face all that grown up stuff!"

"If I had known coming here would make me forget my family and childhood memories, then I should never have come here." Peter's face was shocked with hurt. Margaret groaned, regretting saying that. She rubbed her eyes and begged, "Please, let's just go find Little and get out of here."

Peter didn't move. He was frozen in place for a long time, which was scaring Margaret.

"Peter," she hesitantly spoke.

Finally, Peter spoke in a firm voice. "No."

Margaret was, again, taken aback, but not because of his voice. His eyes were dangerously crossed and a huge frown replaced the smirk she had come to adore.

"Peter, I have to-"

"You can't go back, Margaret! You can't grow up like they did!"

Peter was becoming desperate and shouted out every word he said. This shocked Margaret even more.

"Who-"

"If you go back and grow up, then you can never come back!"

His eyes were pleading her to stay in Neverland forever. But, as much as she would like to, she had to go back to her home.

"I'm sorry, Peter! I really am! But my place isn't here; I don't belong here! It never was my home, no matter how much I wanted to believe that!"

"But you do belong here!" Peter came closer to her, as if trying to make it clear to her. But Margaret backed away from him, feeling conflicted with her decisions the longer she looked at his frantic face. "You're perfect here! You can have so much fun here! We can have as many adventures as we want! You can be a kid forever!"

From the sound of his slightly shaking voice, Margaret had gotten the feeling that Peter wasn't talking about her leaving Neverland or a chance to have fun and stay young forever. It sounded more like he didn't want her to leave him.

And that was what broke her heart. He would be the one she'll miss the most from Neverland.

Margaret turned away, no longer able to look at him anymore. Her eyes were becoming teary.

"It doesn't matter," Margaret replied in a low and final tone. "I'm going home to my family. I had fun here . . . Really, I did . . . But it's time I go home and face whatever I left behind."

Keeping her head down, she raised her hand toward Peter. This time, he backed away from her hand. "I'm going to need some pixie dusts. Once I find Little . . . We are going home."

A long, silent moment stretched on and Margaret had not felt pixie dusts on her hand. She looked up and, again, regretted her action. Peter was staring at her hand with the most depressing look she had ever saw. It was as if he was told that Neverland could no longer make him young forever.

"Peter."

He looked up at her, his eyes glistening with fear and despair. And, all of a sudden, it was all replaced with anger and hurt.

He backed further away from her. "No. I won't let you leave."

Margaret sighed and walked forward. "Peter, please-"

"There is no way I'm giving you pixie dusts."

"You're being ridicules!" Margaret raised her hand in frustration. "Fine, I'll go ask Tinker Bell if she could give me some of hers!" She turned and walked off.

"Then I'll banish her!" Peter shouted at her.

Margaret didn't turn around. "I'm pretty sure she would give me her pixie dust either way, just so to get rid of me!"

"Then I'll order her not to!"

"Before or after you banish her again?"

"You're not leaving me, Margaret!"

Margaret finally stopped and turned to Peter. "Well, you sure are giving me a good reason to leave you!"

Peter froze in shock. Margaret didn't mean to say it, but it had to be done.

Peter closed his eyes and turned away.

After a sad pause, Margaret slowly walked up to Peter and softly asked him, "Why don't you want me to leave, Peter?" She already knew the answer, but she wanted to hear him admit it to her. Maybe he could give her a very good reason to stay. "What's the real reason?"

Peter didn't respond, turning his back to her.

None of them noticed a small trail of pixie dusts flying through the forest. They snuck up behind Margaret and silently entered into her mind. Her eyes glowed and her mind went blank for a moment. Then, her eyes went back to normal and the pixie dusts disappeared, leaving behind one thought that overpowered her mind: hurt Peter Pan.

A wicked grin appeared on her face.

"I just," Peter finally began, with hesitation. " . . . If you go back and . . . Grow up . . . Then you'll forget about being young. You'll forget about what it's like to have fun. You'll forget Neverland and everyone here . . . Including me. I'll just be a silly fairy tale to you.

"And, when you forget, you'll start acting like someone you're not. Someone who works all the time and does things a child would never think of doing. Someone who's miserable and angry all the time. Where's the fun in that?"

"Please, like being a child is a walk in a park."

Peter turned around. "What?"

Margaret hid her smirk, her fists tightened at her sides. "Being young means you're limited to what's really out there. Being young means you're selfish, cruel, annoying, and above all, conceited! Isn't that why Wendy and Jane wanted to grow up? To avoid becoming a child like that? Like _you_?"

Peter felt he was stabbed in the back at her words. "What?"

"And they grew up just fine in the adult world! Better than being here in Neverland! So, maybe, I should do the same and grow up! I'll probably be a better person there than here!"

A piece of Peter's heart broke off.

"That way, you'll always be alone here-"

Another piece broke off.

"Where, no one will want to be with you!"

And another.

"And how can you know that being a grown up is terrible? Have you ever tried it? Hmm? Of course not! You know why? Because you're just a child and you'll never understand!"

"Maybe I don't want to understand!" Peter finally shouted at her, hiding the pain inside of him. "I don't care! I'll never grow up like you, Wendy, Jane, or anyone else! I'll always be a boy forever!"

Margaret paused, as if she had been hit by his words, or she was just surprised that Peter spoke up while she was on a roll.

However, she wasn't finished with him.

"What makes you think you haven't grown up?"

Peter's eyebrows crossed. "What are you talking about? Of course I haven't grown up!"

"Just because you haven't grown up on the outside, doesn't mean you haven't grown up in the inside?"

Peter's eyes shot up. There were more ways to grow up?

"Come on, Peter, isn't it obvious? You act more grown up than anyone on this island. You're more of a grown up than Captain Hook!"

Now that was a big insult.

"I am not," Peter protested.

"Really? Well, why don't I list a few 'adult' feelings you have, shall I?" She started listing on her fingers, ignoring Peter's terrified expression. "You're loyal, brave, honorable, fair, revengeful, anxious, and, best of all, you've fallen in love. Now, have I got that right?"

Peter was stepping away from her, staring at her as if she had turned into Captain Hook. He could still hear his words from last night on how he was growing up. Peter had refused to believe Hook, thinking that Hook was only trying to get under his nerves. But, if Margaret, the girl who had become his closest and trustful friend, was saying the same thing to him, then they must be true.

Peter Pan has grown up.

"No," Peter's choked up words fell out, shaking his head in disbelief. His eyes became teary and his heart had just lost all its pieces. "That's not true. You're lying!"

Margaret coldly shrugged. "I'm just being truthful. And, now that you've grown up, didn't you just say earlier that, once you've grown up, you are forbidden from Neverland?"

"No," Peter cried, desperately digging his hands into his red hair. "No, no, no, no!"

Margaret clapped her hands together merrily. "Why, you would be perfect in London! You could even live with me and my grown up family-"

"NEVER!" Peter shouted at her with all of his strength, scaring Margaret. "I'LL NEVER LIVE WITH YOU! I'LL NEVER GO TO LONDON! NEVER, NEVER, NEVER!"

"But where will you go," Margaret asked in a tiny voice. She slowly walked forward, reaching out her hand to him. But Peter shot away from her, glaring at her with the most hateful look she had ever seen.

"GET AWAY FROM ME! IF YOU WANTED TO GO HOME THAT BADLY, THEN GO! GO BACK AND GROW UP! AND NEVER COME BACK AGAIN!"

With that, Peter rocketed up and disappeared into a now dark sky.

The magic pixie dusts inside her mind had vanished during Peter's rant. Now Margaret helplessly looked up to where Peter retreated, tears falling down on her heartbroken face.

"What have I done?"

***PPIII***

At last, Tinker Bell made it to Fort Buccaneer, where it was, to her surprise, completely empty. No pirates in sight. Not even Hook himself. Tink quickly flew through the buildings in the fort, only to find them all empty as well. Even the Captain's cabin was vacant.

Tink scratched her head in puzzlement. Where did everyone go?

Then a thought occurred to her. The Egg. What if they have already discovered the Egg's power? What could they be using it for?

Tink hurriedly zoomed out of the fort and into the sky. She scanned the island of Neverland in search for pirates and their captain. Though Tink became a little uneasy when she saw the sky darkening ominously.

Before she could think any further on the weather, however, her eyes caught something new and different out into the ocean.

Tink gasped. It's The Jolly Roger.

But how could that be? It sunk to the deep sea. Something must have happened.

Tink's eyes widened. The Egg.

She flew toward the ship, entirely convinced that the Egg is on that ship. She must find It and bring It back to Pixie Hallow, before anything else happens.

She suddenly halted, hovering over the shores, to see something very shocking.

The octopus, that had hunted down Captain Hook for some years, was currently attempting to sneak aboard the Jolly Roger. But, from the moment it touched the ship, cannons came from inside the ship and immediately fired upon the octopus. The octopus was able to avoid them. However, to its and Tink's surprise, all the cannon balls flew right back at the octopus as if it was a magnet to the cannon balls. The iron balls were able to harm the octopus, wounding it. Then, another cannon fired chains at the wounded creature. The chains hit the poor octopus, wrapping itself around the animal, bounding it. And then, the chains, as if it has a mind of its own, dragged the octopus all the way to the shores, where the octopus was forced to lay there, unable to move or return back into the ocean.

Tink was horrified. The Jolly Roger had never done that before. This ship must be more powerful than before, possibly because of the powers of the Egg.

Tink quickly flew to the octopus and tried to free it, but the chains were too strong for a tiny person like her. The octopus looked up at her with distressing and hopeless eyes. Tink could feel her heart grow very heavy at the sight and tried harder, but it was no use. The octopus was doomed.

"I'm so sorry," Tink told it with teary eyes, feeling incredibly horrible the longer she stared at its face, knowing she couldn't help it. And knowing that she would have to leave it in a helpless state while she goes after the Egg.

But how can she get to the Egg? She looked back at the Jolly Roger, now afraid of the ship. The Egg would obviously be there, but it would be heavily guarded. What would happen to her if she attempt to approach the ship? Would the ship attack her as well? Would the ship be able to destroy her?

Tink scanned the ship, desperate to find one area that wasn't guarded. She spotted the back of the ship; the window of the Captain's cabin. It didn't look like it was heavily guarded, but what if it was?

Tink had no choice. She has to check it out. She has to find the Egg before anything else gets worse.

She jumped out of her thoughts when she suddenly realized that the light of the sun had disappeared. She turned to the sky to see darker clouds covering the sky, hiding the bright and optimistic sun under dark and depressing clouds. Tink had never seen that before here in Neverland. Something must be very wrong.

She would have to find out later; she has to focus on the Egg first.

Giving the octopus one last apologetic look, Tink jumped up and silently flew to the back of the ship to the windows of Hook's cabin, unable to look back at the octopus.

When she arrived, she quickly hid herself away from view, fearing to be spotted by whoever was inside. With her back against the frame, she slowly turned her head to the glass of the window and spotted Hook and Mr. Smee inside the cabin.

And, in Hook's hand, was Mother Dove's Egg.

Tink beamed. There it was. Now all she needed to do is grab It and go.

She was filled with the feeling of overconfidence; she was sure she can complete this mission without any help.

She realized they were talking and Tink wondered what they were talking about. She scanned the window and spotted a crack at the corner of the window. She moved her ear to the crack to see of she could hear anything through the crack.

And, surprisingly, she could hear every word through the crack.

"But how do you know if it worked, Cap'n," Smee asked Hook.

"Oh, I'll know when it works, Smee. Just you wait," Hook responded with confidence and Tink could clearly hear the evil grin in his voice.

"Perhaps you should have wished for Pan to appear on this ship, Cap'n. Maybe wish for him to appear in the brig."

Tink froze. Wish? The Egg grants wishes? To the humans? How cliché is that? All she knows is that now, in Hook's hand, he can use the Egg to wish for anything. He must have wished for this ship to come back from the watery grave. But what were they talking about now? Did it have something to do with Peter? In Hook's every conversations, it always has something to do with Peter. Tink pressed her hears against the crack, making sure she doesn't scratch her ear against the crack. She hoped that nothing bad had happened to her Peter.

"No, no, Mr. Smee. This is more fun," Hook replied. "To see Pan so heartbroken and helpless; not a joking, childish manner to be found on that boy's face. To have him on my feet with no escape. To have him begging for mercy! Oh yes, Mr. Smee! This will be much more fun!"

Tink covered her mouth to hide her horrified gasp. Terror shot her heart like a cannon.

"Peter," she whispered.

"Ah," she suddenly heard Hook sigh as if relaxing from a long day's work. "It is done. My wish has just come true."

Tink's heart broke into two. _Oh no. No!_

"Are you sure, Cap'n?"

"Yes, Mr. Smee. I've never been surer in my life. Now, we must go and fetch what's left of him." Hook chuckled cruelly.

Tink's back hit against the frame as she shook her head in disbelief. Thoughts zoomed all over her head with words like, _no. It can't be. Not Peter. Peter's fine. Nothing could hurt him. Hook's lying! His wish didn't come true! It couldn't have! No!_

Her eyes closed shut, trying to clear her mind from an image that popped in her head from her thoughts: a broken looking Peter Pan. Her eyes tightened, attempting to prevent tears from forming.

She leaned back closer to the crack, wishing with all of her heart that there was no truth in any of their words.

"Oh, uh, I don't think that would be a good idea, Cap'n," Smee piped.

Hook paused. "Why not? Give me one good reason why not, Mr. Smee?"

"Well, judging by the weather outside, it looks like a storm is approaching rather quickly, Cap'n. If we leave now, we might get caught in the rain."

Hook paused again and Tink looked up in the sky to see that Smee was right. Now the entire sky was covered with dark grey clouds, preparing for a storm. She could feel the chills of the wind and could hear the low rumble of thunder. _That's strange_, Tink thought. _There hasn't been any storms like that here in Neverland. Except the time Mother Dove's Egg cracked. Something terrible must have happened here in Neverland._ And then Tink knew exactly what had happened.

_Peter_.

"You're right, Mr. Smee," Hook finally said. He must have looked at the window. Tink attempted to hide herself away from viewpoint, while, at the same time, listen through the crack. "Well then, we'll have to wait until the storm pass. Then, as soon as it stopped raining, we'll head for shores and hunt down Peter Pan. Mr. Smee, go and tell the others the plan."

"Aye aye, Cap'n," Smee said cheerfully and the next thing Tink heard was the sound of the door opening and closing, leaving behind silence.

Tink's heart was beating faster at the knowledge that something horrible had happened to Peter. She tried, with all her heart, to disbelieve that Peter Pan can be broken. Not her Peter. But Hook sounded very convinced and confident that his evil wish had been granted and, somewhere in Neverland, Peter Pan has indeed been broken.

She has to see for herself. She has to find him. If what Hook said is true, then Tink must help Peter. Help the love of her life, and bring him back to normal before Hook finds him.

Ignoring a distant thunder, and completely forgetting her mission to retrieve the Egg, Tinker Bell flew off and headed straight into the forest of Neverland.

She urgently zoomed across the forest, zipping over logs and rocks and under branches, paying no attention to a few lightning and even louder thunders. She remembered exactly where she last saw Peter and she also remembered that Margaret was with him. If that witch did anything to Peter, Tink will certainly kill her on the spot, knowing full well that she would be breaking her promise to Peter on sparing her, possibly ending their friendship for good.

But if that will help Peter get better, then Tink was willing to risk it.

All of a sudden, something hit her on the back and she crash landed on the slightly muddy ground. She struggled to get up, turning her head to her back to see what had hit her.

She gasped in shock. Her back and wings were completely wet.

Her eyes then caught giant drops of water falling down from the sky. It was raining.

Raining!

This was not good. Not for the fairies.

Water was a weakness to the fairies, mostly to their wings. Whenever it got wet, the wings would get soggy and pull them down. That's why water fairies are very careful around water. Tink had seen rain before and was sure to avoid it. She had been foolish enough to dive into the ocean to help Peter rescue Jane. If it wasn't for Peter saving her life, Tink was sure she would have drowned.

Tink tried to get up, but another drop of rain hit her, pushing her back to the ground. Before she attempted to get up, another drop hit her. And another, and another, and another. It wasn't long before she was completely covered in rain and mud.

It was that moment when she felt defeated and weak. Her tiny body and wings have been overwhelmed by rain and mud. She could no longer move her body and her wings felt numb from the wetness. There was no way she could escape. No way she can make it to Peter. No way to save him from the horrors Hook unleashed on him.

"No," Tink whispered weakly. "I can't give up. I have to find him."

With all her strength, she pushed her wet and dirty body off the ground. Large raindrops continued to hit her, attempting to push her down, but Tink would have none of that. She kept herself up and struggled to walk.

However, she didn't get really far. Not only did the raindrops attacked her, but the wind was pushing her to wrong directions, the ground was turning muddier by the second, and Tink had a very hard time walking over the mud. Worst of all, her wings were still wet and dirty, preventing her from flying. Now it was just dragging there behind her.

It wasn't after her fifth fall on the ground that Tink realized that she had run out of time to save Peter from whatever evils Hook had wished up.

She had failed Peter. And she might as well failed Pixie Hollow.

Why hadn't she just focused on capturing the Egg and not get distracted on finding Peter. Now everyone she cared about is doomed. All because of her.

Her teary eyes caught a few mushrooms beside a tree and she immediately made her way to them. Soaked in water and mud, losing strength and feeling numb at the same time, she desperately crawled to the mushrooms as hard as she could. She was getting closer and closer, almost burying herself amongst the mud.

She cried in relief when she finally made it to the mushrooms, where the ground under the mushrooms was dry and safe. She crawled to one of the mushrooms' stem and wrapped her drenched and filthy body around it. Behind her, she could hear the storm, raindrops coming down faster. There was no sign that the storm was going to end anytime soon.

She looked down on her back and saw her poor wings moist and grimy. She tried flapping her wings, but they were so weak and covered that they couldn't even move a little.

And then, at that moment, Tinker Bell broke into tears. Tears of hopelessness and failure. She could no longer fly and fulfill her mission. Now Mother Dove will never get better and the Egg will be abused by Hook, unless another fairy could finish the job for her. What's worse, she was too late to help Peter and was now forced to leave him alone with the torture Hook had brought onto him. Whatever it was.

"I'm so sorry, Peter," she whispered in a cracked voice.

Feeling her heart break into little pieces, she buried her wet face against the mushroom stem and sobbed, feeling more alone than ever.

***PPIII***

Peter Pan could no longer fly anymore, not because of the storm. He stopped flying before it even started raining.

Peter's head was so consumed with what happened with Margaret that he didn't see where he was going. Or paid attention to where he was flying.

The more he thought about the conversation, the more it hurt him. And the more pain he felt, the more closer he was to the ground.

It wasn't long before he crashed landed on the ground. Thankfully, he was far away from Marg . . . Mar . . . he couldn't even think of _her_ name without his heart breaking again.

So he just lay there, very still, hearing all those words _she_ said to him over and over and over again.

How could _she_ say that to him. Just because he refused to take _her _home. Where they really true? Or did _she_ say that just to make him angry.

Well, it worked. He was angry. In fact he was furious at _her_. But, at the same time, he felt betrayed by _her_.

Not only that, but he was forced to think back at his entire life. Has he really grown up without actually growing up? Is that even possible? Well, if she thought so, then it must be.

His nightmare had come true and he didn't even know it.

When did he grow up was another question. Was it when he brought _her_ here? Or when Jane was here? Or Wendy? Or even before them? He didn't know.

He was suddenly drawn out of his thoughts by the feeling of raindrops on his back. He looked up to see a dark sky with raindrops falling down from the clouds. He could tell a storm had come and he knew he needed shelter, though he wished the raindrops would just bury him into the ground.

He could fly back to Hangman Jr.'s Tree, but he didn't feel up to flying. So, instead, he slowly got up and walked through the dark forest, looking for anything to hide under.

He finally found a small cave and just in the nick of time. The storm had gotten worse. Paying no attention to the storm, he slowly made his way inside the cave and just lay there.

He still didn't know why _she _would say all that to him. Did he hurt her and she retaliated? Was that it? He really wished he knew; he didn't understand girls at all.

What he didn't understand was another comment of _hers_, which was telling him that he had fallen in love. Fallen in love? With who? _Her_? There's no way he could love _her _after all that. And, besides, _she _wanted to go home. So, once _she _returns home, then Peter will never see _her _again.

Peter wasn't sure if he really wanted that to happened, but, right now, he didn't care.

He closed his eyes, letting the storm outside calm him to sleep.

***PPIII***

The Lost Boys huddled together under Peter's bed as the storm continued from outside. They jumped when they heard thunder. A shaking Tootles pulled Little closer to him.

They had been hiding in their underground hideout for a long while. They had felt a drop of rain during their game of hunting with the Indian boys. Their hunting game completely stopped when more rain came down. The Indian boys looked up into the sky and, with terror on their faces, they fled, leaving the confused Lost Boys behind. They too looked up at the sky to see dark clouds covering the entire sky. Little was already running off, barking to alert the boys to do the same, and they fearfully followed her.

They made it to Hangman Jr.'s Tree just as the storm started and they urgently crawled inside. They had expected their leader and Margaret to meet them there, but, as the storm stretched on, none of them came.

Worry stabbed them in their stomachs. They felt that something must be wrong and decided to go find them . . . But they immediately changed their minds when the sounds of loud thunder scared them so much, they hid under Peter's bed.

What worried them the most was the state of the storm. Every once in a while, Neverland gets their rain showers, but there never was a storm like this. And never this long.

Sick with worry for Margaret, Little jumped out of Tootles' arms and ran to the door, determined to find her friend.

"Hey, where's Little going?" Slightly asked.

Figuring out the answer, Tootles popped out from under the bed and ran after the puppy, grabbing her just in time.

Little desperately tried to escape Tootles' grasp, barking as if begging for him to let her go. When she finally got herself out, Tootles jump forward to catch her, but missed.

"She's going outside!" Cubby exclaimed.

"Quick, grab her!" Slightly ordered.

All at once, the Lost Boys hurriedly chased after Little, who made it outside into the pouring rain.

Little stopped under the heavy sheet of rain and looked everywhere in anguish. She howled into the dark sky, calling out for her lost friend. Perhaps Margaret would hear her call and come for her, so Little can be with her dearest friend. She knew something must be wrong with Margaret; she always knows when something is wrong with Margaret. But now, Little is far away from Margaret and Little had no idea where she is.

She howled again, but this time, she was cut short by the Lost Boys, who finally caught up with her. Together, they carried the squirming puppy back inside, closing the door tight shut so Little cannot escape.

"Quick, someone get a rope!" Slightly cried out, holding Little against his chest as strong as he can. Cubby, Nibs, and the Twins scurried around their hideout, looking for a rope, while Tootles stared at Little with very worried eyes.

"We got it!" the Twins called out as they rush back with a rope. "Now what?"

"Tie one end around the bed and tie the other on Little's collar," Slightly commanded. Tootles gasped and shook his head at Slightly. His pleading was ignored as the Twins did as Slightly said.

"Sorry, Tootles," Slightly said. "But it's dangerous out there. We need to keep Little here until Peter and Margaret get back."

"What if they don't come back," Cubby asked.

Slightly didn't answer because that was when Little jumped out of his arms and raced toward the door. However, Little was pulled back by a rope tied to her collar. She tried pulling out of the rope's grasp again and again, but she was stuck. She howled in despair, gritting her teeth against the rope in an attempt to release herself.

The Lost Boys were miserably still as the thunder boomed repeatedly. They watched Little losing hope as she fails on releasing herself from the leash.

Feeling that she has failed her friend, Little falls to the ground and howled, only this time, it was small and weak, as if her voice portrayed her broken heart. Small tears where falling out of her beady eyes as she lay her head on the ground. Tootles quietly pulled Little to him and held her, as the other Lost Boys crawled onto Peter's bed. Other than the sound of thunder from outside, the inside was silent with hopelessness and misery, with an occasional cracked howl from the small puppy.

***PPIII***

Margaret hadn't felt this horrible since . . . Well, she couldn't really remember.

She had tried to run after him and apologize for everything she had said to him. But he was already gone and she had no idea where he had gone to. She guess maybe back at Hangman Jr.'s Tree, but, before she had decided to move, it had started raining.

If it had rained a day or two ago, Margaret would have immediately run for cover. But, right now, Margaret wanted nothing more than for the cold rain to freeze her to death, or at least numb the pain inside of her.

How could she have said that to Peter? She never meant to say it. But it was like someone else had entered into her mind and forced her to say all the those hurtful things that that someone was dying to say to Peter.

And now that her mind was clear, she knew that, after that conversation, Peter Pan would never want to be her friend again.

Her tears mixed in with the rain as she slowly walked to who knows where, ignoring the storm and everything around her. She was lost in misery and guilt for hurting Peter, the last thing she wanted to do. And, if she didn't care about him that much, she knew she had lost her chance of ever going back home. Which means she is stuck here forever and is doomed to forget everything from London.

All hope is lost all because of her.

Not even her doll, which was residing in her robe pocket, could comfort her. She couldn't even touch the doll that started the entire argument with him.

She stopped suddenly when her foot stepped into water. Margaret looked down and saw her reflection on the water. Despite all the ripples over its surface, she could see she looked horrible.

She looked up and realized that she had come to the lake that she and Peter danced two nights ago.

It seemed so long ago, though. Back when they were carefree and happy. Now, both are broken, just like the lake before her. It was no longer smooth like before; it became dangerously unsettled thanks to the stormy rain.

Staring at the violent lake, she remembered her dance with Peter and the feelings she had felt for him. But then, Peter's face turned hateful, shouting words at her to leave and never come back.

Margaret broke into sobbing at that thought. She fell down on her knees, which was touching the shore of the lake, and covered her wet face with her hands.

She'll never forgive herself for hurting Peter Pan.

***PPIII***

"I wish it would stop raining," Hook wished upon the Egg. As if commanded, the Egg glowed and pixie dusts flew out of the Egg and into the rainy clouds. They covered the clouds with their glow and, as the glow dimmed, the raining ceased. However, there was still dark clouds covering the sky, but not a drop of rain fell.

_Wish I would have thought of that hours ago_, Hook thought to himself.

Hook then made another wish. "I wish I knew where Peter Pan was."

The Egg glowed again and pixie dusts rose up from the Egg and surround Hook's head. His eyes glowed as the pixie dusts gave him the knowledge he wanted.

He could see it now. He could see where Peter Pan was and where he was going. He could even see his secret hideout . . . Which looked like the same hideout Peter Pan had before Hook planted a bomb to blow it up many years ago. Why did the boy build it again? In the same place as his old hideout. How could Hook have missed that?

_The boy must be more stupid than I thought. Or _I _must be stupid than I thought._

As soon as he got what he wanted, the pixie dusts disappeared and the Egg's glow vanished.

Carefully, he placed the Egg inside his small, treasure chest on his desk that sat against the wall. He closed down the lid, locked it shut with a key, and placed the key in his pocket, patting his pocket to double check that the key is still there.

He marched outside like a proud and confident pirate captain he was. All the pirates were standing before him, waiting for Hook's orders, with Mr. Smee right in front (cheerfully saluting his captain).

"Gents!" Hook announced. "This is the day that will be longed remembered! This is the day where we will be free from the bonds of this blasted island! Today, we capture Peter Pan and destroy him once and for all!"

All the pirates (even Mr. Smee) cheered loudly.

"Quick, mates, let us not lose any more time! Get those rowboats ready! We're heading back to Neverland!"

***PPIII***

Little suddenly caught a familiar smell and joyfully started barking, surprising the Lost Boys out of their sleep. In fact, it shocked them out of their sleep so much that one of them bumped the other off the bed.

Little suddenly started smiling as she ran to the door, only to be pulled back by the rope leash.

"Hey, what's up with Little," Nibs asked.

"Hey, guys, you hear that?" Cubby unexpectedly asked. They stick out their ears to hear something.

Slightly shook his head. "I don't hear anything."

It took them a moment to realize that the silence meant that the storm has finally passed. With a grin in their faces, they jumped up and cheered.

While they were cheering, Tootles happily released Little from the rope leash and Little instantly makes it to the door.

She made it just in time for the door to open and, when the door revealed the visitor, Little's smile suddenly disappeared.

"Hey look!" Twin 1 shouted.

"It's Peter!" Twin 2 shouted.

The Lost Boys cheered again and ran to Peter to greet him, only to halt right in front of him, all their smiles washed away.

It was Peter Pan, all right, but this wasn't the Peter Pan they knew. There was no joy and happiness to be seen on the youthful boy. Only pain and misery can be seen. His clothes were still wet from the storm and his skin was pale. Despite being young, his eyes looked old and worn up, with dark bags under his eyes and sunken cheeks. This can't be their fearless leader, though he looks like one. The twinkle that made Peter Pan who he was is gone and this Peter Pan has only become the shell of the formal energetic boy.

This look scared the Lost Boys more than his earlier appearance back at Indian Village when Margaret was being healed.

Peter slowly raised his eyes at the Lost Boys, who stared at him in complete shock, and then slowly walked to his bed. The Lost Boys' eyes followed Peter as he stopped at one side of his bed and fell on top of it. The Lost Boys didn't know what to do or what they were seeing.

Little observed the poor boy as she slowly made her way to him. She hopped onto the bed and sat close to him. His head was buried in his arms and his body was very still, as if he had dropped dead on the bed. Little curiously went closer, releasing a soft moan as if to get his attention.

The Lost Boys tiptoed close to the bed, right behind Peter. They glanced at each other, unsure of what to do.

"Uh, Peter," Slightly finally spoke in a soft, unsure voice. "What's wrong?"

"Yeah," Cubby said. "What's wrong?"

"Are you sick," Nibs asked.

Peter did not answer any of their questions, or even show that he heard them. The Lost Boys fell back into silence, no longer able to speak the longer they look at Peter's depressing condition. All they did was gather around Peter's bed and send a worry glance amongst themselves, waiting for Peter to say something, or even move.

Little seemed to understand what Peter was feeling, for her face turned to pity for the boy. She gently rubbed her nose against his arm, whimpering to him. When he didn't respond, Little went closer and softly licked his arm. She then lay down next to his arms and rubbed her head against his.

Eventually, Peter's head slowly rose and his half-closed and lifeless eyes stared at Little. She stared back at him with her compassionate and comforting eyes. His eyes softened. He released a broken sigh and slowly raised his hand to pet Little's head.

The Lost Boys were speechless as Peter sat up on his bed and brought Little close to his chest. She rubbed comfortably against his chest as he petted her repeatedly.

There is a very long silence before Peter Pan finally spoke.

"Margaret wants to go back to London."

It was small and broken, nothing like the Lost Boys have heard before. But they did hear him and were, again, shocked. This day was becoming lousier and lousier by the minute.

All the Lost Boys (well, except Tootles) busted out questions at Peter like, "What? What do you mean? Why? Doesn't she like it here? Is she okay? Are you okay?" Stuff like that. And, as before, Peter ignored the boys and their many questions, staring off into space and distractedly petting Little.

Finally, when the Lost Boys ran out of questions to blurt out, they fell silent and another long, quiet moment passed.

"She would have gone back anyway," Peter softly spoke as if speaking to himself, forgetting the Lost Boys' presence. "It was meant to be. They all go back. They were happier there. They could never stay here. I should have known . . ."

Little let out another whimper, licking Peter's chin. Peter looked down at the puppy and a tiny, weak crooked smile appeared on his face.

"Wait," Nibs piped suddenly. "Does that mean Little has to go back too?"

Peter lost his smile at the question. He stared at Little and Little gave him an apologetic smile, her answer to him.

Peter slowly nodded and the Lost Boys groaned in sorrow. Tootles' eyes became teary as he crawled onto the bed and up to Little. Shaking his head, he buried his face into Little's body. Little's whimper went louder as she comforted Tootles. Peter watched this exchange without a word. He really didn't want to break them apart, but it was bound to happen.

He turned to the other Lost Boys as Tootles held Little tightly. "Is Marg-. . . Is she here?"

The Lost Boys exchanged glances before they shook their heads.

"No, we haven't seen her," Slightly said.

"Not since last night," Cubby added.

Peter sighed. He's going to have to face her someday, if she still wants to go back to London. "All right. I guess we better go find her-"

All of a sudden, a thunderous sound of a _bang_ was heard outside, shaking the underground hideout. Everyone jumped and, before they could think of what just happened, the shaking ceiling and the walls collapsed on them.

Then, when the shaking finally stopped, the noise of screaming pirates arrived. The Lost Boys' heads popped out just in time to see pirates jumping in from the outside, raising their weapons high in the air. The Lost Boys tried to get out of the wreckages and fight back, but they weren't quick enough. One by one, they were captured and trapped in individual, tied bags.

Little dug her way out and, when she saw Tootles being put inside a bag, Little growled and charged after the pirate holding Tootles. Angrily, she bit the pirate's leg. The pirate yelled in pain and attempted to kick the puppy off of him. After five kicks, Little lost her grip and flew out until she landed in a pile of wreckage. Before she could act again, a bag was put over her by another pirate and tied it tightly, ignoring the furious barking of Little inside.

When Peter finally made it out of the wreckage, he was shocked to see his men and Little getting captured by pirates. Angry, he pulled out his dagger and jumped up to fly after them . . . Only to fall back down. Stunned, he tried again, but he fell back down again. What's happened? Why couldn't he fly?

Unexpectedly, he was harshly pushed down to the ground by a few pirates, his dagger flying out of reach. He struggled to escaped, but it was useless as they tied his hands and feet as tight as they can, making him flinch in pain from the constricted ropes.

A shadow was cast over him and the pirates turned silent; only the cries of the Lost Boys and Little to be heard. Peter, feeling that he knows who it was, slowly looked up to see Captain Hook, standing over him with a triumphant smile on his wicked face.

"Look here, mates," Hook announced. "After all these years, we've finally captured Peter Pan and his Lost Brats!"

The pirates cheered. Peter only gave Hook a cold stare.

Hook leaned down at Peter. "My, you don't look so good, Pan. And you seem to have lost your flying ability."

Peter spat at Hook, but he missed his target. Hook was, however, angered and, to retaliate, he stomped his foot on Peter's face. Peter kept his mouth shut, but a small whimper of pain escaped his mouth.

"You better watch what you do to me, Pan," Hook warned Peter. "Or else I might make another wishes of mine come true."

Hook took his foot off of Peter's face and ordered to the pirates, "Take them all to the Jolly Roger! And make sure the prisoners don't escape!"

Before Peter could ask what Jolly Roger, a small bag was put over his head, feeling it being tied around his neck. The next thing he knew, he felt himself being carried to who knows where these pirates were taking them.


	14. Ch13 To The Rescue

**To The Rescue**

Tink's tired eyes slowly flickered open. She felt her body shiver from the cold. She glanced beside her to see herself lying against the mushroom stem, where she must have slept for who knows how long.

She felt drowsy and miserable as she lay still, just listening to the silence of the forest-

Wait, silence?

Tink's eyes shot wide open, her body sitting up. She looked out from under the mushroom roof and saw that the rain had finally stopped. Everything was terribly wet from the storm, but she could see little sunlight falling down through the wet trees and the sounds of cheery _tweet_ and _chirps_ was heard from afar.

But she could feel herself dry. Could that mean . . .

She slowly stood up and looked down at her back. Her wings were lying down against her body, but they were dry with only some dried mud on them. She hurriedly cleaned her wings from the dried mud and, holding her breath, she flickered her wings.

To her relief and joy, the wings were fluttering and her body levitated above the ground by a few inches. She was so overjoyed for her now dry and freed wings that she burst through the roof of the mushroom and shot to the sky.

She suddenly stopped when she spotted some dark clouds, bring back memories of Margaret's memory lost, the Egg stolen, and Hook keeping It captive and making a wish to break Peter-

Oh no, Peter!

Without another thought, Tink zoomed over the forest roof as fast as her wings could take her. She may be too late, but maybe she could do something to help Peter get better. Hook's wish may have come true, but Tink's going to make her own wish come true: to heal Peter Pan.

She made it to Hangman Jr.'s Tree when she stopped again, this time in horror.

The hideout was completely wrecked, as if it was attacked many hours ago. How could this be?

Tink looked up at the sky to see the sun setting. She was only out for a few hours, so she must have missed the entire ambush. No doubt the pirates where the one to attack; the Indians were more secretive on ambushing.

A horrid thought struck her. Does that mean the pirates have captured the Lost Boys, Margaret, and Peter?

Refusing to believe that, she flew toward the ruined hideout and entered through a small hole on its bark. Inside was just as worse as outside. The ceiling had collapsed and the furniture were either torn apart or crushed by the ceiling. Tink's little apartment, that use to be up on the wall, was now crushed on the ground. But, on the plus side, as she flew and explored her tiny house, most of Tinks possessions weren't destroyed since they were all inside and her outside home got the worst of it.

However, that didn't help Tink feel better when she found the Lost Boys' weapons on the ground. The Lost Boys never went anywhere without their weapons, unless they got captured. Then Margaret and her puppy must have been captured as well.

But the pirates didn't get Peter, right? They couldn't have. Peter was just somewhere else at the right time. That's it. Now, all Tink had to do was to go out and find him.

Unfortunately, Tink's optimistic thinking was burnt to ashes when she saw Peter's dagger on the ground; never left behind unless its owner was in danger.

She flew down and gently landed on her feet next to the dagger. She couldn't believe it. She had never felt this hopeless and furious in her life. She could have prevented this from happening, if it wasn't for that stupid storm. If only she had flown faster! If only!

But it was too late. They've done it. Those dirty, rotten pirates have done it again. They've captured Peter Pan. Now he's left at the mercy of Captain Hook.

Was this another one of Hook's wish came true? Was this what Hook wanted? Anger at herself was now replaced with an overwhelming hatred toward Hook. He has Peter now. And, as long as he has the Egg, he could control everything.

Now, Tink had more reasons to find the Egg.

With new determination, she flew out of the demolished hideout and through the forest, on her way back to Pirate Cove. However, as she flew, she wondered how she was going to find the Egg and rescue Peter and the captives. She knew she couldn't do both at the same time. But she knew the Egg was very important and, if she rescued the captives first, Hook would just wish for the captives back. As much as she didn't want to ignore Peter, Tink would have to find the Egg and take it back to Pixie Hollow, so Hook won't ever use it to make wishes to harm anyone.

She zipped past trees, rocks, a small cave, bushes, tree limbs, Margaret, branches, mushrooms-

Margaret?!

Tink screeched to a halt and immediately flew back.

There, she saw Margaret herself, sleeping against a wet tree. The fairy could see that the girl looked terrible, as if she had been tortured and was now in the aftermath stage.

But Tink didn't care about how Margaret looked. What mattered was that she had found help, even if it was the last person she would want help from.

She took a lock of Margaret's hair and pulled it tightly to wake the girl up. Tink tugged on the lock repeatedly, but it didn't seem to wake her; only move her head back and forth.

Tink groaned in frustration. Why can't this stupid girl wake up?

She glanced at the lake and sprouted an idea. She hovered over the water of the lake and cupped its water into her hands. She then flew up to Margaret's face and splashed her with the water Tink carried. It was, however, a tiny water that splashed onto the girl's face, so it didn't really wake her.

But Tink didn't give up. She went back and forth from the lake to Margaret, carrying some water on her hands and throwing that water at Margaret's face, hoping that this would help wake the girl up.

Eventually, Tink had succeeded. Margaret moaned, rubbing her eyes awake. Tink exhaled in relief, dropping the water she had carried in her hands, not needing it anymore.

Margaret shivered as her eyes fluttered open. She spotted Tink hovering before her and, for the first time, she did not smile at the fairy's sight.

"Oh, hello, Tinker Bell," Margaret said in a dull voice, to Tink's surprise. This wasn't what she expected, let alone the look on Margaret's lifeless eyes. Something must have gone wrong.

"Listen, I'm glad you're here," Margaret said, sitting up. "I need some of your pixie dust, so I can go back home to London."

Tink's eyes widened in shock. She wants to go home? Already? Usually, Tink would have cheered for joy, but Tink was distracted by Margaret's miserable appearance.

"But maybe that won't work," Margaret mumbled, looking down at the ground as if talking to it now. "I don't have any happy thoughts to make me fly."

Tink was now overcome with sadness for the girl. What could have happened to bring this girl unhappy thoughts?

Margaret looked up at Tink with depressing eyes. "Do you know any other way to get back home?"

Tink slowly shook her head. The girl sighed. "Oh, well. I'm sure I'll find a way. Do you know where Little is, though?"

_She doesn't know what happened at Hangman Jr.'s Tree_, Tink thought. _She was never there at all!_

Tink nodded her head and pulled her wet bed robe up. Nodding as if to say she understood the fairy, Margaret slowly got up and followed Tink through the forest.

When they made it to Hangman Jr.'s Tree, Tink heard a gasp behind her and knew it belonged to Margaret. The girl ran to the ruined hideout, trying to dig inside, and shouted the names of her puppy, Peter, and the Lost Boys in panic.

When she couldn't get in, she turned to Tink. "How do we get in, Tinker Bell?"

Tink was pretty sure that there was no way a girl could go through holes and cracks like she could. But she knew of other, secret places where Margaret could enter.

Tink waved at Margaret, signaling the girl to follow her. Then, Tink led Margaret off the distance to a large and heavy-looking rock. Once Margaret came up and stared at the rock in confusion, Tink pushed the rock (which really wasn't heavy at all) out of the way, revealing a hole. Margaret looked at the fairy in hesitation and, once Tink nodded at her to go ahead, Margaret jumped inside, with Tink right behind her.

Inside was a secret passageway, one of the many passageways that led straight to the underground hideout. Margaret walked down the passageway with Tink following her in midair. The girl curiously looked around as she walked on, even stopping to look up at the bottom of a lake, where two fish saw her and both fish and girl stared at each other in wonderment. Tink had to pull Margaret away to remind her where they were suppose to go.

The door to the hideout was crushed as well, so Margaret had to push it away. Sadly, the door broke out of its hinges and fell to the ground. Tink was expecting Margaret to apologize for breaking the door, but the girl remained silent. Tink wasn't even sure this was the same happy and adventurous girl she had last seen this morning.

She let Margaret look around the ruins, everything Tink had already seen. She watched as Margaret's expression became a mix of shock and sorrow, all the while stepping over wrecks and weapons. Margaret removed wrecks that were covering the bear rug and Peter's bed. She would stare at those two and the weapons for a while, lost in thought.

What really hit Margaret was when she spotted Peter's dagger. Tink wasn't sure how, but it was pretty clear that the girl also knew that Peter never goes anywhere without his dagger, which meant that Peter was in trouble, along with the Lost Boys, and, possibly, her puppy.

Margaret fell to her knees and picked up Peter's dagger, just staring at it in deep distress. She gazed at the dagger for a while until, finally, Margaret turned to Tinker Bell. "What happened here?"

Tink only held out her finger and curved it to make it look like a hook.

"Hook?" Tink nodded. Margaret stood up. "You mean the pirates were here? And they got Peter, Little, and the boys?" Again, Tink nodded. Margaret rubbed her face with her other hand. "This is bad," she mumbled to herself. "Really bad."

Tink felt like they were wasting time already. She quickly flew up to Margaret and motioned for her to come follow her out.

"Tinker Bell, wait," Margaret stopped Tink from flying off. The fairy looked at the girl questionably. "As much as I want to rescue them, I think we should wait."

Tink exploded in shock.

"Tinker Bell, it's getting dark outside, if you haven't notice." Margaret pointed up at what's left of the ceiling. Some rays of sunlight that slipped through the holes on the ceiling had vanished. "I have no energy to fight those pirates, and nothing will happen to Peter, Little, and the boys at night. We'll go rescue them in the morning."

Tink was already shaking her head and trying to silently convince Margaret to come help her by flying around the girl and urgently pulling her robe. This girl has no idea what's really at stakes here.

"Tinker Bell, what's wrong with you," Margaret asked, noticing the fairy's panicked look. She pulled away from Tink. "What's going on?"

Tink was pulling her hair in irritation. She was so close to just leaving Margaret, but Tink knew she needed her help. She debated heavily on whether to tell the girl about the Egg or not. Tink really didn't want to, but she may have no choice.

"Tinker Bell, they'll be fine! Calm down! Why are you so worried?"

Tink sighed. She had to tell her.

But how? How can she explain to someone who doesn't understand her. She'll have to do the next best thing: charades.

Tink signaled the girl to wait with her finger. Margaret fell silent and watched Tink closely.

Tink looked around to see what she could use. Her eyes landed on the dirty ground and got an idea. She flew down to the ground and drew a large, egg-like shape.

Margaret gave Tink a questionably glance. Again, Tink motioned her to wait. Then, Tink folded her arms, making them flap like they were wings, and clucked. She stuck her bottom toward the drawing of the egg and immediately pointed at the drawing to Margaret.

Margaret was still confused, but she did speak. "An egg?" Tink nodded. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Tink wrapped her finger around her own chin, thinking hard on what to do next. She snapped her fingers, another idea coming to her. She sprinkled a little of her pixie dust on the drawing and, again, pointed at the drawing to Margaret.

Margaret took a moment to figure out what Tink was trying to say. "You want to sprinkle pixie dust on an egg?"

Tink frowned, shaking her head. She tried drawing pixie dust around the egg.

"Wait, an egg has pixie dust?"

Tink nodded, relieved that they were getting somewhere.

"So?"

Tink groaned. Or not.

She curled her finger to make a hook again, then held her other hand toward the egg drawing and made a motion of grabbing it and holding it close to her chest.

It took Margaret another moment to guess again. "Hook . . . Has this egg?"

Tink nodded hard.

"Why would Hook want an egg like that?"

Tink felt like ripping her hair out twice. They were getting close, but Tink was running out of time.

Tink thought hard on how to act out 'wishes'. Having not found any idea, she gave up and just wrote the word "wish" on the ground. Then, she drew an arrow from the egg and pointed at the word "wish". This has to work; the girl couldn't be _that_ dumb!

Margaret thought for a moment, looking at the drawing of an egg and the word "wish". Tink was getting closer to explosion if this girl doesn't figure it out soon.

Finally, Margaret's face lit up, as if everything was coming clear to her. "The egg grants wishes." Tink was taken aback at the girl's sudden and correct answer. She nodded, then moved her hands as if to say, _keep going_.

"And . . . If Hook has the egg . . . Then he could make any wish he wants."

So close. A little more, now.

"That means . . . He could wish for . . ." Margaret's eyes shot wide open in alarm. "Oh, no! We've got to go after that egg!"

Tink shot up in the air, exploding with joy.

"You're right, Tinker Bell!" Margaret finally said. "We need to go now!"

Tink could have cried in happiness, but there was no time. In a flash, she waved at Margaret to come on, and headed toward the exit, with Margaret right behind her.

***PPIII***

For Margaret, it wasn't much of a surprise that there was a newly repaired Jolly Roger out in the ocean (it would make sense that Hook would wish for his ship back), nor the fact that all the pirates left Fort Buccaneer to live on the ship. What _was _surprising was that there was a party going on at the ship.

Once Tinker Bell showed her the Jolly Roger from the Pirate Cove shores, they saw lights coming from the deck of the ship, as well as pirates partying. None of them knew what the pirates were celebrating. Perhaps the capture of Peter Pan?

Because of the party, it would be difficult to sneak aboard the ship. Not only that, but, according to Tinker Bell (and all of her strange, silly, and exploding motions), the ship could possibly attack them without the need for pirates (another wish courtesy of Captain Hook).

Now they had to think of another way to sneak aboard the ship without getting attacked. Tinker Bell said, or just mimed, that the only safe place was the Captain's Cabin, so they just needed to find a way to get behind the ship and get inside.

After a minute of thinking, the only option they could come up with was swimming to the ship. But Tinker Bell could not swim, and the pirates are sure to see her glowing body over the ocean.

As they tried to think of another option, Margaret spotted something. "Oh no!"

Just on the beach close by, there was an octopus tangled up in chains. The creature was very pale and was breathing hard. Margaret noticed that the octopus was far away from the waters and its legs desperately reached out to touch the water coming close to him, only for the water to pull back, leaving the poor creature even more depressed.

Margaret turned to Tinker Bell, who spotted the octopus and turned gloomy at the sight of the creature.

"Did the ship do that," Margaret asked the fairy.

Tinker Bell nodded.

Furious on what Hook and the ship had done, Margaret ran to the octopus, falling down on her knees beside it, and immediately started unwrapping the chains off of the creature.

The octopus looked up at her, its eyes half closed and still breathing hard and fast. Tinker Bell hovered close by, watching the event before her.

Finally, Margaret, pulled all the chains off, freeing the octopus. "There, that should do it. I hope it helps-"

Before she finished her sentence, the octopus quickly got up and jumped into the ocean, disappearing under the surface.

Margaret was motionless, looking out at the place where the octopus had vanished, still holding the chains in her hands. Tinker Bell also looked at that spot, but with a small smile.

Margaret sighed, looking down at the chains and gently putting them down. "Too bad. Maybe he could have helped us get onboard."

What Margaret had said brightened Tinker Bell's face. She flew to Margaret and pulled her rode, catching Margaret's attention.

"What is it, Tinker Bell," Margaret asked. Tinker Bell only responded by waving her hand for her to follow the fairy.

Margaret slowly got up, puzzled. "Where are we going?" Tinker Bell didn't answer; she instantly flew off. "Wait, Tinker Bell! Wait up!" She ran after the fairy, following her pixie dust trail down the beach.

Eventually, after following Tinker Bell a couple miles down the beach, Margaret came upon a small cave. Now Margaret was more confused then ever.

"Tinker Bell, why did you lead me to this cave? Tinker Bell?"

But Margaret could not find the little fairy. She searched around her until she spotted a dim light coming from inside the cave. Assuming that Tinker Bell was inside, she cautiously entered into the cave.

The cave inside was just as small, but the water inside was deep, reaching up to Margaret's waist. If it wasn't for Tinker Bell's glow, the cave would have been too dark for Margaret to see.

Against the back of the cave was a wide, smooth rock surface that was two or three inches above the water surface. On top of the rock surface was some sort of creature lying belly down on it. It had bandages wrapped around its belly. The creature had a long body and its head was out of sight. Tinker Bell was hovering closely to the creature.

Curiously, Margaret walked closer to see what kind of creature it was. Coming closer, she could see its scaly, green body, its claws for hands, and its long tail that fell down on the rock's edge, its tail end disappearing through the water surface.

Once Margaret came close to the creature, she could see that Tinker Bell was gently massaging its head, twinkling soft words to it, as if asking it to wake up.

Soon, the creature groaned and turned its head toward Margaret, its sleepy eyes half open.

Margaret noticed that the creature's head looked exactly like a crocodile's head.

A crocodile?!

Margaret shrieked, backing away from the crocodile. Hearing her scream, the crocodile let out a surprised groan and jumped in fear, unfortunately sliding off of the rock and into the water.

Tinker Bell avoided the water, blocking her face from even the tiniest water drop. She looked down at where the crocodile disappeared and shot Margaret an irritable look.

Margaret didn't see the fairy's glare, too busy finding a rock against the wall to climb on out of the water, hoping to stay far away from the animal.

Why in the world did Tinker Bell lead me to a crocodile? Margaret rolled her eyes mentally at that stupid question in her head. To have her be eaten alive, of course.

Margaret fearfully looked over the water surface, wondering where the crocodile was. Tinker Bell stayed hovering over the smoothed rock surface.

Margaret gasped and jumped when the crocodile resurfaced. Only, it was from the exact same place it disappeared, right next to the rock surface. Margaret stared frighteningly as the crocodile struggled to climb onto the rock surface. Once the crocodile was finally on, Tinker Bell moved closer and, again, massaged his head.

Margaret feared that the crocodile will soon eat the fairy, but it only closed his eyes and moaned, smiling in peace.

Now Margaret was more confused than before.

Thinking about it, Margaret realized that this was what Tinker Bell wanted to show her: a crocodile. Or, what looked like, a wounded crocodile. But why?

Hesitantly, Margaret softly asked the fairy, "You . . . You know him?"

Tinker Bell nodded. She flew up to Margaret and pulled her at the direction of the crocodile.

"This isn't another one of your attempts to kill me, right?"

Smirking, the fairy shook her head again.

Sighing, having nothing else left to lose, Margaret carefully climbed down into the water and allowed Tinker Bell to pull her to the rock surface, very close to the crocodile.

Once Margaret came closer, facing the crocodile's side, the crocodile spotted her and turned his head toward her. Margaret gulped nervously, trying to ignore the strong urge to run away.

However, to her surprise, the crocodile only smiled in greeting. Margaret had no idea what to think about this. She saw Tinker Bell above the crocodile pointing at her own smile, clearly asking Margaret to smile back, Margaret weakly attempted a crooked smile. Fortunately, the crocodile did not mind.

Margaret hoped that Tinker Bell doesn't ask her to pet him next.

She noticed that Tinker Bell took out Peter's dagger from Margaret's robe pocket, and, instead of taking it back from the fairy, Margaret watched as Tinker Bell used the dagger to gently cut the bandages off. Margaret carefully helped the fairy remove the bandages (not before taking back the dagger and placing it back in her pocket) and there, before Margaret, were large and deep scars, newly healed, down the crocodile's back and stomach.

It was a pretty good guess to who could have left those scars on this crocodile.

"Hook did this to him, didn't he?" Margaret looked up at Tinker Bell to see her nodding her head.

At the sound of Hook's name, the crocodile released a low and dangerous growl; so dangerous that Margaret took a careful step back.

Margaret frowned in puzzlement, her eyes turning to Tinker Bell.

As if reading her mind, Tinker Bell started pointing at the crocodile and positioned her arms with one pointing up and another pointing to her right. Then, making a sound of a bell ringing in beats, she moved her right arm up according to the beats she was making, until the right arm joined the other arm pointing up and made a ringing noise.

"A clock?" Tinker Bell nodded, smiling at Margaret for getting it right. "What does that have to do with the crocodile?" Tinker Bell slapped her face.

She flew over to the crocodile's mouth and knocked on it. The crocodile glanced at the fairy and the fairy raised her hands up. The crocodile opened his mouth and Tinker Bell flew inside.

"Tinker Bell!" Margaret exclaimed, but it was too late. The fairy was inside the crocodile.

However, the fairy seemed to still be alive, for Margaret could see Tinker Bell's golden glow beneath the scaly skin. Margaret wanted to rescue the fairy out of his stomach, but she could do nothing but watch the glow continue down the crocodile's stomach until it stopped.

The next thing Margaret knew, the crocodile's body started jumping in beats and the sound of a ticking clock was heard out of his body. Tinker Bell flew out of the crocodile's ticking body and held out her arms as if to present him to Margaret.

Hearing the ticking, Margaret suddenly remembered the day she came to Neverland and when she and Peter were messing with Captain Hook. The first thing Peter did was make those same ticking noises by the fort gates and, at the sound of a ticking clock, Hook became a complete scaredy cat. And then, it hit her.

She turned to the crocodile. "You're Hook's enemy! You're the one Hook's afraid of!"

The ticking crocodile weakly grinned. Tinker Bell let out a relieved sigh.

She flew back inside the crocodile. Then, the sound of ticking stopped and the crocodile's body remained still. Tinker Bell flew back out of his mouth, unharmed again.

"Well, Hook seemed brave enough to fight back," Margaret continued, staring at the crocodile's scars. "And left you wounded." She looked up at Tinker Bell. "So you brought him here and healed him. But why?"

Tinker Bell didn't answer. She only floated close to the crocodile's head and rubbed his head in a kind, friendly way. Margaret had a feeling that the fairy did it because life wouldn't be the same without the ticking crocodile around.

And that someone needed to scare the living daylights out of Hook.

"Okay, so," Margaret interrupted the silence between them. "What do we do now? How could he help us get onboard the ship?" She waved her hand at the crocodile as she spoke.

Tinker Bell gave Margaret a "trust me" look, then whispered something to the crocodile. The crocodile nodded and slowly made his way off the rock surface and into the water. Out of instinct, Margaret stepped away from him.

Then, when the top body of the crocodile appeared above the water surface, Tinker Bell flew down and sat on his back. She looked up at Margaret and patted behind her.

"You want me to ride on a crocodile," Margaret asked in shock. When Tinker Bell nodded, Margaret shook her head. "No, there is no way I'm riding on a man-eating crocodile all the way to the ship! No offense," Margaret added to the crocodile, who just raised his shoulders in indifferent.

Tinker Bell gave Margaret a pleading look and pointed at Peter's dagger in Margaret's pocket, its hilt peeking out.

Looking at the dagger, Margaret knew the fairy meant, "think of Peter". And she did. She had to find and retrieve the Egg so she could save Peter from Hook's use of It. And, when they get Peter back, Margaret will apologize for everything she had said to him and beg him for forgiveness; to make things right between them again.

Now that she thought about it, she wasn't even sure if she should leave Neverland. But the only thing that reminded her of London, her true home, was the weight of her doll in her other pocket.

She would have to think about that later. Right now, she has to help Peter, Little, and the Lost Boys, and if riding on the crocodile (however weird it was) is her only chance at that, then she would have to suck it in and get on his back.

So, taking a deep breath and gulping nervously, she slowly and cautiously moved her leg over his back and rested herself on the crocodile's back, her hand on the dagger hilt just in case.

Tinker Bell, giving her a proud smile, flew up to Margaret's shoulder and lay on it with both hands gripping tightly on Margaret's bed robe.

Margaret would have burst in happiness that Tinker Bell was this close to her for the first time, but there were other matters to worry about.

Once they settled in, the crocodile swam off across the surface, with Margaret holding on tight. He swam out of the cave, but stopped right in front of the cave, facing toward the Jolly Roger with his vengeful eyes narrowed at the ship. There were still signs that a party was going on at the ship.

Margaret wondered why he stopped, until she caught sight of Tinker Bell tightening her grip on the robe, inhaling and holding onto that breath. She then turned her head to Margaret, pointing down at the ocean and then up at her closed mouth with a look that said, "do as I do".

Keeping questions to herself, Margaret nodded at the fairy to let her know she understood her. She tightened her hold on the crocodile (being careful of the scars) and held her breath.

Before she knew it, the crocodile dived down underwater. Once they were below, the crocodile began swimming again, heading straight toward the bottom of the ship.

As he carried the ladies on his back, Margaret now fully realized what Tinker Bell's plan was all along. Since they couldn't sneak aboard with pirates on board (and who knows what the ship could do to intruders), the only other way to sneak aboard without being seen was by swimming underwater. And, since it was a long way from Pirate Cove to the ship, and Margaret couldn't hold her breath that long if she swam, Tinker Bell thought of the crocodile, who was a strong swimmer, and wanted revenge on Hook. So, it only made sense to have a crocodile take them all the way to the ship underwater before the girls needed air.

And, right when they do needed air, they have arrived.

The crocodile silently resurfaced, facing the back of the ship. Both Margaret and Tinker Bell gasped for air, while staying as quiet as they can.

Margaret looked up and figured that the windows wrapped around the top back of the ship led to the Captain's Cabin. Hook's cabin. And, judging by the dark room behind the windows, Hook was either at the party outside or was inside sleeping.

Margaret turned to her shoulder, where a drenched fairy carefully stood up and shook her body dry. She took her wings in both hands and squeezed her wings, getting as much water out of them as possible.

Once her wings were dry enough, Tinker Bell exchanged looks with Margaret, who pointed at the windows and delivered a questionable look. As if reading the girl's mind, Tinker Bell nodded and flew up to the windows, peering inside to see if the coast was clear.

While Margaret waited, she softly rubbed the crocodile's back in silent gratitude. The crocodile gave her a smile and she smiled back. She hoped that the crocodile does get his revenge with Hook someday.

Later, Tinker Bell flew back down and shook her head, indicating that no one was there.

Margaret looked up again, unsure how she could get up there. It didn't look like she could climb up there.

As if answering her silent question, Tinker Bell flew around Margaret, releasing some of her pixie dust onto her body so that she could fly.

However, Margaret gave the fairy a sad smile. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "But I can't fly. I have no happy thoughts."

Tinker Bell looked surprised and thought for a short moment. She then placed her fingers on her head to make ear shapes and let out a twinkling bark.

Margaret immediately smiled, knowing that the fairy was trying to imitate Little. She giggled slightly, remembering her precious puppy and all the fun they've had together.

The bright light from Tinker Bell hovering in front of her face brought to her attention. The fairy was smiling widely and glanced down.

Margaret's eyes went down and shot wide open when she saw herself levitating high above the crocodile. Once she stopped up at the windows, Tinker Bell waved down at the crocodile and Margaret did the same. The crocodile waved back and disappeared into the ocean.

Now, it was only the two of them and they needed to get inside.

Tinker Bell pulled on the window door, but it was locked. Margaret tried opening it herself, but it was still locked. Tinker Bell spotted something at the corner of the window: a crack. The fairy banged on the crack and created a small hole on the window only small enough for Tinker Bell to go through.

Crawling through the hole without touching the sharp ends of glass, she flew to the lock of the window door and unlocked it. Margaret silently opened the window door and floated inside.

She observed the cabin. Though it was still dark, she could make out the desk, the bed, the piano, chairs, cabinets, candles, etc. But she could not see an egg anywhere. She wondered if she could turn on the lights, but she thought it was too risky. Beside, the only light source she had was Tinker Bell's glowing body.

Margaret glanced at Tinker Bell, who was searching the dark cabin for signs of the Egg. "Do you see it," she whispered. She thought that was a stupid question; no one, as far as she could tell, could see anything in the dark. But she felt like asking.

When Tinker Bell shook her head, Margaret whispered, "Then we better start looking."

Margaret and Tinker Bell began looking through everything as silent as they could. Margaret looked through the cabinets and under the furniture, while Tinker Bell looked through key holes and over at high places. They looked all over the cabin in silence, the only sound heard was the pirates partying outside. This made Margaret nervous, hoping that none of them, or worse, Hook, comes in unexpectedly.

Just as Margaret was checking under the bed, she heard ringing going off. Margaret looked up and saw Tinker Bell hovering over a drawer against the far wall, pointing furiously at a small chest on top of it. She had the look of pure excitement and urgency.

Margaret quickly, but quietly, got up and tip-toed to the drawers. From the light of the fairy, Margaret could make out the chest as an extravagant and proper chest with red skin and golden trims.

Tinker Bell went closer to the chest and pointed at its keyhole, which was painted in gold. Margaret took a closer look inside the keyhole. There, very faintly, she saw golden glitters.

That must be the Egg! This must be it!

Margaret and Tinker Bell exchanged excited looks and Margaret placed her hands on the chest, opening it.

Unfortunately, it won't open. After two more tries, she knew why.

"It's locked," Margaret told the fairy. Tinker Bell groaned, which sounded more low, twinkling bells. "Don't worry, Tinker Bell. All we need to do is to find the key. Did you see the key anywhere here?"

Tinker Bell thought for a moment, but shook her head. Margaret looked back at the cabin. Where could the key be?

All of a sudden, the party outside started to fade as the event came to an end. Margaret and Tinker Bell looked at each other in fear. That means Hook will be coming back.

And, sure enough, they heard footsteps.

"Hide," Margaret whispered. Tinker Bell zoomed around to find a hiding place, until she disappeared under the bed, out of sight. Margaret frantically looked everywhere for a hiding place her size. Her eyes settled on large curtains hanging by the windows.

As she quickly made her way toward it, she noticed the window still opened. Not wanting someone to see that and suspect that they snuck aboard, Margaret quickly and silently closed the window and hid herself underneath the curtains.

Just at that moment, the door opens and the light of the cabin flickered on.

Her heart raced as she stood very motionless. Her hands threatened to shiver, but she held it still. She listened to the footsteps as they made their way to her left. She heard a _click_ and a slight _creak_. Then, she heard a _bump_. Was that the chest?

"Ah," Margaret's heart jumped at the sound of a pleased Captain Hook. "This is a fine day, my little egg."

The Egg! He must have taken the Egg out of the chest. Now, if only he could leave it out in the open and just go away.

That was too much to ask.

"You have helped me tremendously these last hours." Margaret heard more footsteps as Hook moved slowly around the cabin, as if savoring the moment. "You have restored my ship to its former glory. You've brought the downfall of my worst enemy. And, you've provided us the perfect way to capture and bring him and his men here to my ship."

Margaret suddenly caught Hook's words. What did he mean by 'brought the downfall of his worst enemy'?

"And you should have seen the look on Pan's face," Hook continued. She heard another creak, but there were no more footsteps. Carefully, Margaret peeked her one eye out to see Hook now sitting on an elegant chair, holding a sparkling egg in his hand.

That must be the Egg!

"He was completely miserable!" he went on. "Completely! He looked so broken up!" He laughed cruelly. Margaret's hands tightened on the curtain.

"It's interesting that a mere child, a little girl, would be the one to break him!"

Margaret's eyes popped open. She hurriedly pulled back under the curtain, holding back a gasp.

What?

"Yes," Hook said as if answering the Egg's silent question. "And it only took a few chosen words out of her mouth to destroy him, thanks to you granting my wish!"

Hook laughed again, only louder.

Margaret immediately thought back of when she shouting out hateful words to Peter. Where they the Egg's words and not hers? Did Hook make her say all that?

"Ah, but it worked perfectly," Hook continued, not even knowing the growing rage inside the young girl. "And, now, he is under my grasp and will soon die at my hands! All thanks to you and that silly, young, Miss Benson!"

Margaret could no longer hear Hook let out another cackle. Hate overfilled her mind and her body shook with fury, something she had not felt for as long as she could remembered.

Hook! It was always Hook! He wished for her to hurt Peter with those horrible words! He used her to hurt him! It was never her fault; it was Hook's!

Her mind was so consumed with hate for Hook that she didn't realize that she was shaking, causing the curtain she was hiding to shake as well.

Hook fell silent and, the next thing she knew, the curtain she was under pulled away, revealing a curious and suspicious Hook himself.

Before Hook could react, Margaret punched him.

She punched him so hard, Hook flew back and landed hard on his collapsed desk, dropping the Egg out of his hand.

Not allowing Hook a chance to get up, Margaret jumped on him and started beating him as hard as she could.

"HOW DARE YOU," Margaret shouted at him while punching him. "YOU EVIL, COLD-HEARTED, DESPICABLE, LOATHSOME, SON OF A-"

Margaret screamed suddenly. Pain shot down her forearm. She stopped, looking down at it and froze.

Right on her forearm was a long, fresh scar, blood slowly streaming out of her scar. A hook hovered close to the forearm, its sharp tip covered with blood.

Hook had wounded her. Again.

Margaret quickly covered her wounded forearm, but, without warning, Hook angrily grabbed her and harshly threw her off of him. She crashed into a dresser next to the bed and fell down hard on the floor, her body screaming in pain.

Tinker Bell appeared from under the bed covers, giving Margaret a look that clearly said, "You stupid, stupid girl!"

Yeah, jumping out of hiding and beating up a pirate captain wasn't such a good idea.

Hook whimpered as he felt his beaten up face. His heated eyes narrowed on a frightened Margaret.

"YOU WRETCHED, LITTLE BRAT!" He bellowed at her. "LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO MY FACE!"

"You deserve it," Margaret finally retorted. "You forced me to say all those hateful words to Peter! You've used me to hurt him!"

"Yes, it's not like you were going to hurt Pan without my help anyway," Hook responded offhand.

Fiery rage filled Margaret's body and mind with anger and hurt (at knowing that Hook was right; she _was _going to hurt Peter by leaving him).

Screaming, Margaret pulled out Peter's dagger and ran after him.

Margaret charged after Hook, pointing the dagger at him. However, with the speed of light, Hook took out his own sword and blocked her, raising the dagger and her arms holding it up above her head.

Both opponents stared furiously at each other.

"You think you can defeat me," Hook asked her with anger and cockiness. "I am Captain Hook, the greatest swordsman of the Seven Seas!"

"Who can't seem to defeat a boy almost half his size," Margaret finished with a smirk.

Growling, Hook pulled his sword back and attempted to slice her in half. Thankfully, Margaret quickly moved back, avoiding the blade of Hook's sword.

Both their blades crashed together with a _clang_ and the fight between Margaret and Captain Hook has begun.

Unfortunately, since Margaret had only one lesson on sword fighting (especially since she's never used Peter's dagger before, and she was no Peter Pan) and Hook having years of experience in sword fighting, it was very clear that Hook had the upper hand and Margaret was barely holding herself up. And, with Hook dangerously angry, his sword fighting was much more intense and violent than what Margaret had seen before.

Again, jumping out of hiding and beating up a pirate captain was a horrible mistake.

Meanwhile, Tinker Bell spotted the Egg from under the covers. The Egg lay on the floor with no one noticing It. Glancing at the distracted Hook, Tinker Bell quickly and silently flew low toward the Egg. She grabbed hold of the Egg and pulled It up above the floor.

Only to be pulled back down by Its heavy weight.

Tinker Bell looked down at the Egg, bewildered. How can a magical egg like this weigh heavier than a regular egg?

Whatever the reason, the weight will slow Tinker Bell's flight. It may be impossible for her to escape with the Egg.

But she had to take that chance.

With all of her strength, she pulled the Egg up against her body and rapidly flapped her wings, slowly hovering up above the floor.

She flew her way toward the window, trying to stay as low and unseen as possible.

But it was useless anyway.

Her glowing body was what caught Hook's eyes.

"MY EGG!" Hook shouted. Immediately, he pushed Margaret out of his way, causing her to trip on her nightdress and collapse on a table, both crashing down to the floor. Without noticing, her doll slipped halfway out of her pocket.

Hook ran to the window, blocking Tinker Bell from her only escape. Tinker Bell gasped at the situation, clutching onto the Egg tighter.

"GIVE ME BACK MY EGG!" Hook shouted, reaching out his hand to catch her and the Egg. She moved away from his reach and flew away from him. But the Egg was still very heavy and slowed her down greatly.

Before she could find a place to escape, Hook's hand suddenly and finally caught her and the Egg.

"Aha, gotcha!" Hook exclaimed.

But Tinker Bell wasn't giving up so easily. Although she was trapped in Hook's grasp, she fought back by hitting, scratching, even biting his large finger.

Hook winced at the pain of his finger, but refused to let the fairy go with the Egg. Instead, he used his hook to stab through Tinker Bell's wings and struck his hook at a wall, trapping Tinker Bell's wings from freeing themselves. Tinker Bell's wings went still, afraid to damage themselves if moved. He used his other hand to steal back the Egg from Tinker Bell, who shouted jingling bells at him, no doubt demanding to have the Egg back along with some cursing.

Margaret sat up from the floor and gasped in horror when she saw Hook holding the Egg in his hand and his hook stabbed through Tinker Bell's wings, preventing her to move at all. She attempted to get up and attack Hook and save Tinker Bell and the Egg. Unfortunately, she was pulled back down by the edge of her nightdress. She looked down to see the end of her nightdress stuck under the table. Groaning, she pushed the table to move (which was, sadly, stuck) and tugged on her dress, trying to escape from the table's hold on her dress.

While doing this, Margaret looked up at Hook and exclaimed, "Let her go, Hook!"

"No," Hook answered with strange determination. His eyes never left the cautiously struggling fairy. "I'm tired of this fairy always getting in my way of victory!"

Margaret wasn't sure what he meant by that, but stayed silent as Hook continued to talk.

"Well, no more! I'm so close to victory now, and I don't want you or any other fairies out there to stop me!"

Tightening his grip on the Egg, Hook said with a loud and clear voice, "I wish Tinker Bell, and all the fairies like her, are dead forever!"

"NOOOOOOOOO!" Margaret shouted, but it was too late.

In an instant, all the pixie dusts, every last one of them, flew out of a horrified Tinker Bell, turning her body into a darker color. All the pixie dusts fade into nothing and, with that, Tinker Bell's eyes rolled until they closed, her body fell limp, and became very, very still. The only thing holding her up now was the hook that was still stabbed through her wings.

The famous Tinker Bell was now dead.

Margaret couldn't speak or move, her eyes on the dead fairy. Tears fell down her cheeks. "No," she whispered.

She couldn't believe it. Her favorite character in the entire world (next to Peter Pan) was dead. Right before her eyes. This couldn't be happening. Sure they weren't really friends, but Margaret always considered Tinker Bell as her dear friend, despite the fairy attempting to kill her out of jealousy.

Margaret bowed her head with wet eyes shut tight, feeling like the fairy's death was all her fault. If she hadn't lost control of her anger and attacked Hook, Tinker Bell would still be alive.

Hook.

Margaret slowly looked up to see Hook with a wicked and victorious smile, dangling Tinker Bell's body with his hook. Then, he turned his hook over and the fairy's wings slowly slide down and out of his hook. With the hook no longer holding it up, the tiny body fell and landed on the floor like a useless thing.

All the while, Hook gazed at it with that same wicked and victorious grin.

Rage from before filled Margaret up again, only this time, with a new mission: to keep that Egg and Tinker Bell's body far, far away from Hook.

Tearing her dress out from the table's hold with strength from nowhere, she quietly got up, placed the dagger back in her pocket, and snuck up to Hook, who never noticed her.

Again, without knowing, her action caused her doll to fall out, now lying on the floor alone.

Once Margaret was close to him, she caught Hook off guard by giving him a big punch on the jaw.

With Hook distracted from the punch, Margaret quickly took the Egg out of his hand, pushed Hook away as he had pushed her before, and then retrieved Tinker Bell's body with her other hand.

With both hands full, she ran to the window and hurriedly opened it. She looked down outside, hoping to see the crocodile waiting for her down below. But, to her dismay, the crocodile was still gone. She had forgotten that the crocodile had left them before.

And since Tinker Bell can no longer give her pixie dust, she could not fly out of the window as well.

Now how does she escape?

"Cap'n!" a voice suddenly spoke. Margaret turned around to see Mr. Smee, who had just entered, carrying a tray of, what looked like, leftovers from their party. "I've brought you a little midnight snack in case you . . ."

He finally noticed the mess in the cabin, along with a wounded girl with the Egg on one hand and a fairy's body on the other, and a bruised face Hook recovering from a punch.

"Oh, dear. I've missed something terrible, didn't I?" Mr. Smee piped.

"SMEE" Hook shouted with rage. "GET THE GIRL!"

"Oh, uh, aye, aye, cap'n," Mr. Smee saluted, throwing the tray away and walked toward Margaret, his arms out to catch her.

Margaret was running out of option. What could she do?

Then, without thinking, Margaret threw herself out the window.

"Noooooooo," Margaret heard Hook shouting as she fell.

Thinking quickly, she whispered to the Egg, "I wish I could breath underwater."

As soon as she splashed through the surface and fell deep underwater, she felt her neck sliced and, suddenly, she could breath through her neck.

Not having time to be in awe of breathing underwater and having her wish come true, she swam as fast as she could, far, far away from the ship and closer, closer to the island of Neverland.

But Margaret felt no hope left in her heart. Peter Pan, Little, and the Lost Boys were still the pirates' prisoners and Hook still had his ship. The only good news was that Hook no longer has the Egg anymore. But now, Margaret was wounded, she could tell, from an empty pocket, that she had accidentally left her doll behind again, and, worst of all, Tinker Bell was dead.

With a heavy heart, she clutched the Egg close to her, the only, single hope she has left now.


	15. Ch14 The Battle of the Jolly Roger

**(A/N: I am so, so sorry for the very late update. Not only was I busy with college work, but this chapter has been so hard to write. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Again, I'm really sorry for being late, but I will try to get the next chapter ready as soon as I can! Thank You!)**

**The Battle of the Jolly Roger**

Margaret had made it to the beach and quickly wished away the gills so that she could breath above water again.

Despite escaping Hook's grasp again, Margaret was left with the worst wound yet: Tinker Bell's death.

It had happened too fast and Margaret couldn't help but blame herself, cuddling the fairy's body close to her sobbing face. If she hadn't attacked Hook, Tinker Bell would be alive and they would have escaped with the Egg, unharmed. If she hadn't lost control of her anger, then none of this would have happened.

It was all her fault.

But, on the bright side, she has the Egg now, where Hook can no longer use It for his own, evil purposes.

Margaret caught an idea in her head. The Egg! The Egg that grants wishes! This could grant her a wish and resurrect Tinker Bell!

She gently took the Egg out of her wet pocket and held it close to her face. The Egg looks nothing special; just an ordinary egg. But that did not fool her from the hidden magic on the Egg.

Desperately, she whispered to the Egg, "I wish Tinker Bell was alive again."

Margaret looked down at the tiny fairy in her other hand, expecting the fairy to light up and dance above her palm.

But, as a moment passed, there was still no life, nor light, on the fairy.

Margaret was greatly puzzled. Why hasn't it worked? She looked at the Egg and noticed that it had not change at all; it had remained the same as if she had not made a wish.

She tried again. "I wish Tinker Bell was alive."

There was nothing.

Her heart was now shaking. Why isn't it working? "I wish Tinker Bell was alive!"

Again, nothing.

_Is it broken_, Margaret thought to herself. She decided to test It by wishing for her cut to heal (it was still bleeding, but not too much).

This time, the Egg shines brightly with glittering lights. Pixie Dusts rose out from the Egg and splashed into her cut. It did not hurt her. Before she knew it, her cut was healed, the pixie dust disappearing into the now thin scar on her arm, and the Egg's light dimmed until the Egg was back to normal.

Well, the Egg was obviously not broken. Then why won't it revive Tinker Bell?

Margaret tried to make her wish again. "I wish Tinker Bell was alive."

Instead of doing what it had done before, the Egg remained normal.

"I wish Tinker Bell was alive!" She shouted at the Egg with a desperate and quivering voice.

And again, nothing.

"WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!" Margaret screamed at the Egg, shaking it as if trying to make the Egg work. "WHY CAN'T YOU GRANT ME THIS WISH?!"

The Egg did not answer her.

"DO SOMETHING! BRING HER BACK! PLEASE!"

But the Egg stayed as plain as any regular egg.

Margaret repeated her wish again and again and again, her eyes tearing up in her almost hopeless eyes.

At last, after several tries, the fairy was still dead as a pebble and the Egg would not even shine in glittering pixie dust.

With that, Margaret broke down into a sob, weeping over her fallen fairy companion. Unlike her crying from before, this crying was a combination of despair and guilt. In less than 24 hours, she had completely forgotten her past life, hurt Peter Pan, lost her chance to save him, the Lost Boys, and her own puppy, and caused Tinker Bell to die. She was terribly cold and wet and her scar still shines under empty light. Everything had become a giant mess and even the tiny victory of rescuing the Egg from Hook could not cheer her up.

She had hurt everyone that she had adored. She had failed her dearest pet, Little. She had failed everyone.

Now Neverland no longer felt like a beautiful, magical place anymore. And, what's worst, she couldn't go back to her original home because she can no longer remember her old home and how to get there.

Margaret silently wished she had never came to Neverland.

After a long moment of crying her heart out until her eyes were dry of tears, she looked down at the fairy's body, already thinking of where to bury it.

She looked to the Egg and would have cracked it then and there out of anger. But, out of misery, she began thinking of wishing for it to turn back the clock to a time when she was back at her old home, with her old family and her old memories, and to stay with them, never journeying to Neverland, where she would not hurt Peter Pan or cause Tinker Bell to die.

But then, she wouldn't have met them at all, and Margaret could not give up those memories with them and of Neverland.

It wouldn't be right.

So, without really thinking, she whispered her tiny voice to the Egg.

"I wish I knew what to do with you."

Margaret was sort of expecting for the Egg to remain the same as before. But what happened next shocked her out of her miserable state.

The Egg glowed and a trail of pixie dust floated out of the Egg. It flew high above her head and entered into the forest. Margaret could see the trail of pixie dust now floating still in midair, as if waiting for her to follow it.

Very slowly, Margaret stood up, her eyes never leaving the pixie dust trail, and walked up to it.

Her dried eyes became fixated on the sparkling lights of the pixie dusts, like tiny stars dancing right before her and not up in the sky.

Margaret slowly reached out her hand to touch it, wondering what it would feel like.

However, when her fingertips were inches from the pixie dusts, the pixie dusts flashed at her, causing her to step back.

As if realizing what the pixie dusts were trying to tell her, Margaret looked down at the trail. She did not know where they will lead her, but Margaret held one last piece of hope that it will lead her to a way to fix everything.

Gently placing the Egg in one pocket and Tinker Bell's body in another pocket, Margaret began her journey, following the pixie dust trail.

She didn't really focus on where she was going. Her eyes were on the pixie dusts the entire trip. She did not see the forest she was crossing, nor the clearings, nor the river, not even passing by a mountain. Margaret just followed the pixie dusts; believing on them and trusting them as she had before.

At last, the pixie dusts trial stopped and so did Margaret. She finally looked away from the trail to see where it had led her.

There was another clearing, but it was filled with flowers and grasses and, in the middle of the entire clearing, there was a tree that was a few feet above her.

But what she saw before her was the worst yet to see.

All over the ground were dead fairies. Not just female fairies, but there were male ones as well. All dead. Just like Tinker Bell.

Margaret was horrified. How did this happen?

Then she remembered Hook wishing for Tinker Bell, _and_ everyone like her, to be dead.

And that's exactly what happened.

Margaret never knew there was a whole population of fairies. Margaret would have liked to have seen them when they were alive. They were probably very beautiful.

She wondered if Peter knew about this, or if Tinker Bell had told him about them. Or even if Tinker Bell lived here at all.

Either way, all the fairies were now dead before her feet.

This made Margaret feel even worse.

She turned to the pixie dusts trail next to her, wondering why they would lead her to this place. And what was the purpose? How was this supposed to help her?

Then, the pixie dusts trail extended across the field and entered into the branches of the tree in the middle of the clearing.

Margaret didn't understand any of this. She felt like questioning it, but decided that that won't solve anything. Maybe the pixie dusts have a plan.

She was about to step forward, but held back. There were dead fairies everywhere. She didn't want to step on them, even by accident. She wanted to ask the pixie dusts, or the Egg, to help her be able to fly over them. But she had no happy thoughts to keep her off the ground. So, Margaret will have to tip toe over them.

Now her eyes were focused on the ground, making sure she doesn't step on the dead fairies. She knew where she was going (straight toward the tree), all she needed to do was to cross the ground full of winged corpses.

Finally, her eyes spotted the tree roots and she looked up to see the tree before her.

The tree too looked lifeless, as if it was killed by Hook's wish along with the fairies. It wasn't incredibly huge, but Margaret could tell that this was supposed to be an important tree to the fairies.

She looked up into the branches, where the pixie dusts trail had ended. Curious, Margaret stood on her tip toes and slowly pulled the branch aside, looking inside.

There, nestling on another branch, was a nest. And, in the nest, was the most beautiful bird she had ever seen. The bird was a dove with beautiful white feathers. It seemed slightly and unusually bigger than what other birds are like (then again, Margaret hadn't seen many birds here in Neverland). What made this bird very special was the slight golden glitter on its feathers. This bird must be a favorite to the fairies.

The bird's head was bowed down and Margaret looked closer at the bird's face.

There were tiny tears rolling down the bird's face.

This broke Margaret's heart even more.

The bird was silently weeping to itself. Margaret couldn't understand why, until Margaret saw more fairies hanging over branches on the tree, all dead.

Margaret looked back at the bird, feeling very sorry for it. This bird had seen all its friends fall dead right before its eyes. That must have been terrible for the unfortunate bird.

"You poor bird," Margaret softly said to herself.

The bird shook at Margaret's voice in surprise. It turned to her and gave a frightened noise, waving away from her.

"No, no, calm down," Margaret said to the bird. "Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you. I promise."

The bird became still, staring at Margaret with uncertain eyes. They were still wet with tears of sorrow.

Gently, Margaret held out her fingers to the bird. The bird slightly pulled back, but remained still. Margaret's finger came closer until it touched the bird's soft feathers.

When the bird did not move, her finger stroked down its feathery head and neck as soft as she could. The bird slowly closed her eyes and rubbed its head against her finger, cooing.

Margaret smiled. This was the first time in a while that she had felt happy. And the first time she felt like she could help someone.

Tenderly, she took the bird into her hands, slowly so she wouldn't scare it away, and brought the bird close to her body in comfort.

Feeling the closeness of another being, the bird snuggled to her heart.

For a long while, Margaret looked down at the bird, feeling very peaceful. "Shhh, it's all right," she whispered to the bird. "I'll take care of you."

The bird looked up at her with her tiny eyes. Now that the bird was close to her, Margaret could see the bird's eyes very closely.

And that was when she noticed something in the bird's eyes.

They were not the eyes she had seen before, but felt as if she knew a long time ago. They were of great care and love, almost motherly.

No. It was motherly. But it was also of great pain and lost. Like she had lost something very important to her. Or someone.

And that was when Margaret realized something, feeling one of her pockets heavy.

With her free hand, she slid down her pocket and pulled out the Egg. "Does this belong to you," Margaret asked the bird.

When the bird saw the Egg, it was like pure joy had entered into her bright eyes. She gave out a jubilant chirp, flapping her wings in joy. Now tears of happiness were falling down her small face.

Smiling radiantly, Margaret slowly sat down on her knees and, as soft as she could, lay the bird and her Egg down on the ground.

The bird quickly flew to her Egg and embraced it, kissing all over It as she would do to her child that had come back to her. It was the most beautiful sight Margaret had seen yet.

Then, the bird carefully settled her Egg down on the ground and nestled herself on top of her Egg.

Now that this bird is reunited with her Egg . . . what's next?

Margaret looked back at all the dead fairies behind her, waiting for them to come back to life, as if the spell has been broken.

But nothing happened.

Confused, Margaret took out Tinker Bell's body out of her other pocket and studied the tiny body closely. There has to be some sign that she was alive; that there was one speck of pixie dust appearing on that body. Anything!

But, when she saw nothing, Margaret let out a sigh of defeat. Nothing changed. Tinker Bell was still dead. The Egg did nothing.

The bird gave Margaret a patient look, but Margaret was so wrapped up in misery that she could not see.

"I thought . . ." Margaret paused, unable to say what she was thinking: she thought that returning the Egg would fix everything.

But it didn't. It did nothing.

And Margaret was still all alone with no hope left in her.

She gently placed the tiny body on the ground and wrapped herself in a fetal position, burying her head in her arms.

It's over.

All of a sudden, Margaret heard the bird chirping. Margaret looked up to see the bird chirping happily at whatever was behind her. What else could the bird find happiness?

Margaret turned around and her face widened with shock at what she saw.

There, one single fairy, amongst the corpses of fairies, was slowly being lifted up into the air, her body slightly glittering with golden dusts.

Pixie Dusts.

Once the fairy was high up into the air, her body exploded with pixie dusts and her body, which had been dead still, was now stretching and yawning, as if she had just woken up from a dead sleep.

Margaret froze at what she just saw, unable to think.

That fairy was alive!

Spotting Margaret, the smiling fairy flew to Margaret, up close to her face, and then kissed her on her nose. She then flew down and hugged the bird, who hugged back.

Margaret could not comprehend what just happened. But the bird kept on chirping at something behind Margaret, only this time more joyful.

Margaret turned around again and, in disbelief, she slowly stood up as she witnessed something so incredible.

One by one, the fairies of both genders rose up into the air and their bodies exploded with more pixie dusts. And, one by one, the fairies were resurrected.

Margaret's smile was so huge, it hurt her cheeks. But she didn't care. It was all so beautiful.

They were all alive.

Once all fairies came to life, their voices rejoiced in jingling bells, like the bells on a sleigh ride.

They flew all over the place. They covered the sky, the ground, the trees, the flowers, everywhere.

Margaret had never seen so many fairies in her life, but they were the most beautiful beings she had ever seen.

Some of them flew around Margaret, studying her and smiling at her. They seem to be speaking to her, but all Margaret could hear were more bells. Few of them were even touching her robe and her hair. And, all the while, Margaret just laughed in pure happiness.

It felt as if her broken heart had been mended thanks to these fairies. Her beaming eyes looked at all of the fairies from the sky, to the trees, to the ground . . .

But, when she turned at the ground, her smile dropped.

Tinker Bell was still dead on the ground.

Few of the fairies, more of them females and three of them males, came down to Tinker Bell's body in despair and confusion. And Margaret was sure she was feeling just the same.

She reached down to gently pick up Tinker Bell's small body, and that was when she noticed that there were tiny, golden sparkles on the body.

There was still hope.

"Come on, Tinker Bell," Margaret pleaded to the fairy in her hands. "Come on, you can do it! Please, you've got to come back! Please!"

The light on Tinker Bell's body was slowly enhancing, as if Tinker Bell's body was fighting to come back alive.

Margaret could hear bells of encouragement around her, but she was too focused on Tinker Bell.

"You've got to wake up, Tinker Bell! You just have to!" Margaret's voice was getting more desperate at every word.

"Please, Tinker Bell! Look, these fairies need you! I need you! Peter Pan needs you! You're stronger; you can fight back! Come on, Tinker Bell, Come on!"

The light was starting to shine all over Tinker Bell's body, but still, her eyes remained closed.

"That's it! You're getting there! Wake up, Tinker Bell! Please, you must wake up! Come on! Come one!"

And, at that moment, Margaret gasped.

Tinker Bell opened her eyes.

She looked up at Margaret and smiled.

"Oh, Tinker Bell," Margaret cried. "You're alive!"

In jubilation, Margaret threw Tinker Bell up into the air and watched as Tinker Bell soared into the sky in pure bliss.

All the fairies cheered in lovely chimes.

Tinker Bell flew down until she came up to Margaret's face.

"Oh, Tinker Bell," Margaret quickly said. "I'm so sorry I got you killed. I didn't mean to-"

Tinker Bell stopped Margaret by wrapping her arms around Margaret's cheek and embracing her. Trying not to cry (so she wouldn't get the fairy wet) Margaret placed her hand on Tinker Bell and hugged her back.

This may be the first time she and Tinker Bell had ever hugged each other.

Once they pull back, all the fairies have gathered around Margaret. Some fairies (who seem to be wearing brown and orange colored clothing) carefully carried the bird and her Egg up to the tree. Probably to put her back on her nest.

And then, there was a blast of pixie dusts high above Margaret. The huge amount of pixie dusts then transformed into another fairy. But this fairy seemed to be more important than the other fairies. For she had a golden crown on her blond hair, huge golden wings, and a dress made of pixie dusts.

Not to mention that almost all of the fairies were bowing their heads to her.

Margaret's eyes were fastened on the golden fairy.

She must be the queen.

Now Margaret wasn't sure if she should bow to the fairy queen or not.

The fairy queen flew up to Margaret and began to speak to her.

However, all Margaret could hear were bells; she could not tell what the fairy queen was saying. It seemed important, but Margaret didn't want to interrupt her. That would be rude.

When the fairy queen had finish talking, she began looking at Margaret as if expecting an answer to her unknown question.

_I guess now it's time to confess_, Margaret thought.

She bowed her head first, feeling that she must.

"I'm sorry, your majesty, but I don't speak fairies. I don't understand anything you said to me. Though, I wish I could."

As if Margaret had answered correctly, the fairy queen nodded and then looked up into the tree.

Tinker Bell raised her hands as if to stop the fairy queen from something, speaking to her in her bell language. But it must have been ignored when the fairy queen did nothing.

Suddenly, pixie dusts appeared out of the tree and flew right into Margaret's ears. She felt her ears stretching and tingling.

And then, she no longer heard bells.

She heard words. Actual words. From the crowd of fairies.

What?

Margaret looked around the fairies and, when they spoke, Margaret could actually hear words she knew coming out of their mouths instead of the usual bells.

But how can that be?

What did those pixie dusts do to her ears?

She felt both her ears and gasped in shock. She could feel the tip of her ears pointed. Like the ears of the fairies. Like Peter's ears.

Margaret was in complete shock and she flinched back to reality when the fairy queen spoke again to her.

Only this time, Margaret could understand what she was saying.

"Now, you're wish has been granted. Now, you can hear the tongue of the fairies."

Margaret looked at the fairy queen in puzzlement. "My wish has been granted?"

The fairy queen nodded. "Yes, it has. I have told you that, because you have returned Mother Dove's precious Egg to her, I will allow you to make one last wish to make, so that we may reward you by granting your wish."

Margaret could hear the fairies agree with the fairy queen.

"I am Queen Clarion. And we welcome you to Pixie Hollow."

Pixie Hollow. What a lovely name for a home of the fairies. That would make a wonderful story to tell someday.

But then, Margaret thought of something.

"Wait, I can understand what fairies are saying?" Queen Clarion nodded. "Then that means . . ."

Margaret slowly turned to Tinker Bell, who had her arms crossed and an amused look on her face.

And, when she spoke, Margaret could clearly hear her voice for the first time ever.

"Not bad for a Clumsy."

Margaret's smile widened even more.

"Oh, Tinker Bell! You have such a lovely voice . . . hey, what do you mean by Clumsy?"

Tinker Bell only smirked at her and Margaret couldn't help but smile back.

However, another thought troubled Margaret. "There's one thing I don't understand. I wished for Tinker Bell to be alive before I came to Pixie Hollow, but it didn't work. And then, all of a sudden, everyone came back to life. What exactly happened, and why?"

"I'm afraid it's more complicated that you think," Queen Clarion began. "You see, when a wish has been made, then it cannot be reversed, no matter how evil the wish is. The only way to reverse evil wishes was to overcome it with happy thoughts from Mother Dove. Among her many powers here in Neverland, reversing evil wishes is one of them. Once she had been reunited with her Egg, all happy thoughts have returned to her and, all of the evil wishes, including the wish of killing all fairies, have been undone."

"So, does that mean all of Hook's wishes have been reversed too?"

"I'm sure not all of his wishes were evil," Queen Clarion answered positively.

"The Jolly Roger," Tinker Bell spoke up. "He just wished for his ship back. That's not evil much . . . except for the weapons there." She seemed to darken at those last words.

"And his wish for hurting Peter was evil-"

That was when Margaret and Tinker Bell remembered someone very important to them.

"PETER!"

"Oh my gosh, how could we have forgotten him," Margaret exclaimed. "And Little! And the Lost Boys!"

"Peter?" said a blond fairy boy, who was looking at Tinker Bell with his sparkling eyes.

Tinker Bell looked out into the distance to see the sun rising. "It's too early for Hook to have Peter walk the plank. There's still some time left!"

"Wait, what is going on," asked a black fairy in yellow clothing.

"Thank you so much for everything," Margaret started.

"But we really need to leave now," Tinker Bell finished.

"Why is that," Queen Clarion curiously asked.

"Our friends have been taken captured by Hook and his pirates," Tinker Bell said. Some of the fairies gasped in horror. "And we need to go rescue them before it's too late!"

"I'll go with you," announced the same blond fairy boy.

"No, Terence," Tinker Bell said to him. "You don't know these pirates like I do."

"But I want to come too," said an Asian fairy in blue clothing with determination in her voice.

"Me too, sugar," said a red-haired girl, wearing red clothing, in a strange but delightful voice.

"And me," shouted a blond fairy who was riding on a different bird. Margaret did a double take to see that the fairy had no wings.

Tinker Bell tried to tell them all no, but more fairies volunteered to come along. All Margaret did was stay silent.

Queen Clarion raised her hand and everyone's voices quieted down.

"Tinker Bell," she began. "You and your friend will need as much help as you can get."

"But I did all right before without anyone's help."

"That may be true, but nothing can be accomplished without a friend. You may bring a small party of friends with you. I insist."

Tinker Bell hesitated. Margaret could only look on.

Finally, Tinker Bell said, "Oh, all right. I guess it would be more fun if you fairies would come along."

In the end, Tinker Bell had chosen nine of her friends to join them. Five female fairies: Silvermist, Rosetta, Iridessa, Fawn, Rani (accompanied with her bird (named Brother Dove)), and three male fairies: Terence, Bobble, and Clank.

Instantly, Margaret loved all of these fairies and was confident that they can bring down Hook and his pirates before this day is over.

She just hoped that Peter, Little, and the Lost Boys were all right.

_Hang in there, Peter_, she thought to herself. _Help is on the way_.

***PPIII***

Peter groaned when he was, once again, thrown down on the deck. Before he knew it, he was pulled back up by the pirates.

The pirates had spent the entire early morning playing with and beating up Peter, with the Lost Boys tied up to the mast (again) and shouting at Peter to fight back.

But how can he when his hands were tied behind his back and having no happy thoughts in him.

He could hear Little barking from the mast, where her collar was tied to a rope on one end and the other end tied to the ropes on the mast.

The weird thing was that Hook wasn't even participating, nor was he watching the entertainment. Though, he was the one that ordered the pirates to do whatever they want with Peter earlier.

Hook was currently staring over the rails of his ship, where he had previous sent two pirates down into the ocean to search for the Egg. He was so focused on the ocean that he paid little attention to Peter for once in his lifetime.

So the pirates spent their time with Peter by mocking him, throwing him around, and hitting him once in a while.

This was harsher and more violent than Peter's last capture.

As much as Hook wanted to join in the fun, Hook was more anxious on getting the Egg back and finding the girl who stole It.

"Don't you worry about a thing, cap'n," Smee assured Hook as he wrapped Hook's chest with bandages. Hook was still wounded from last night's event. The worst looking was his face, where it got the most beating. He gained a shiner on one eye, small scars on his nose and the corner of his mouth, and a nasty bruise on his chin. His pirate mates couldn't help but stare at Hook's face and questioning him about it, only for Hook to threaten that, if anyone even stares at his face, they will be shark bait.

"I'm sure that Egg will turn up soon," Smee continued on, only to accidentally touch Hook's wounded chest, causing him to wince and groan painfully.

"Oh, dear, sorry cap'n," Smee quickly said after Hook gave him a death glare. Once Smee was finished on Hook's chest, he took Hook's coat (that was hanging over the rails) and carefully placed it on Hook.

Just then, the two pirates resurfaced, catching Hook's eyes.

"Quick, Smee! Bring them out!" Hook hurriedly ordered.

"Aye, aye, cap'n," Smee saluted and threw a rope down to the two pirates. Once they both grabbed on to the rope, Smee heaved the rope with all of his might and was able to pull the two pirates back on the ship.

The two pirates fell flat on board, soaking wet and breathing heavily, as if they had been underwater for hours.

"Well," Hook demanded, desperate for good news. "Did you find them?"

One of them, a skinny pirate with missing teeth, spoke first, only in between gasps of air. "We . . . We couldn't . . . find anything . . . Cap'n."

"What?!" Hook shouted in fury. "Are you sure? That girl and my Egg has got to be down there!" He grabbed the toothless pirate's shirt and forcibly pulled him close. "Did you search every single places down there?"

"W-well . . . We couldn't really look down there-"

"You imbecile!" Hook threw the pirate down. "Why not? That's what you were suppose to do!"

"The octopus!" the other pirate (who had a bandana over one eye) piped suddenly, shivering violently in fear. "It was down there! Waiting for us!"

Hook's eyes widened in terror. "The octopus! And you managed to escape that beast? It could have killed you, eaten you . . ." A thought suddenly made its way into his head. "Like it did to that poor girl and the Egg," he mumbled to himself.

The two pirates exchanged odd looks.

"Cap'n?" Smee looked curiously at Hook.

Ignoring Smee and the two pirates, Hook turned around just in time to see one of the pirates throw Peter across the deck and a tall, fat pirate jumping onto Peter, crushing him. Peter winced in pain, gritting his teeth to avoid screaming.

An evil smile slowly made its way to Hook's bruised chin. "Seems like I don't need that Egg to make my final wish come true after all."

Smee and the two pirates looked at their captain in confusion, but Hook ignored them. He slowly walked up to the other pirates, who had just picked Peter up and spun him around like a ballerina.

"That'll be all, gents," Hook raised his voice at them, catching all of their attention. "Put him down."

The pirates moaned, wanting to continue the fun. But they obeyed their captain and threw Peter to the deck.

Peter landed hard on his knees, his upper body falling over them. He was in so much pain, he could hardly breath well. He felt like daggers were stabbing all over his body, especially his face. He felt something wet at one corner of his lips, knowing full well that it was not water.

Silence fell over the crew and Peter could feel Hook's eyes narrowed on him. Putting on an arrogant mask (his signature look), so he wouldn't give in to Hook's enjoyment, he slowly raised his head up and looked right back at Hook.

Both Peter and Hook stared at each other in a silent battle, waiting for the other to speak first.

Peter gave a lopsided grin at Hook (acting like it didn't hurt his lips). "Nice face, Hook."

Hook smirked at him. "Same to you, boy."

Peter didn't argue back; he couldn't tell if his face was as bad as Hook's or not.

His only response was, "At least, on me, I make it work. You . . . you just look uglier."

Hook chuckled under breath. "Laugh all you want, boy. But I know you won't be laughing after I tell you the tale of how I got this way."

Peter shrugged. "Try me."

Hook paused for a moment to draw a suspenseful tension, before he started his tale.

"You see," Hook began, gently smoothing his hook. "Last night, I had been visited by an unexpected guest. Someone I'm sure you will know very well."

"Yeah," Peter said lightheartedly. "And who would that be?"

Hook paused again, then glanced a wicked look at Peter. "A young girl named Miss Benson. Or, as you call her, Margaret."

Peter's confident face suddenly dropped, replaced by pure shock.

"Oh yes," Hook continued, pleased at what he was getting so far. "Miss Benson was here last night, in my cabin."

"She was here" Peter asked softly.

"Why, yes, she was. And she was the one who did this to my face."

Peter slightly chuckled. "You must have really made her mad for her to do that on your face."

Hook frowned at him for a second before he returned to his confident smile. "Yes, well, whatever the reason may be, she deserved what came to her afterward."

Peter's eyebrows crossed in puzzlement. But he couldn't help feeling the horror rising in his heart. "What are you talking about, Hook? Where is she?"

"Why, in the belly of the octopus, of course."

Peter fell into a stunned silence. Even the Lost Boys and Little (who were able to listen in on the conversation), fell into dead silence.

"What," Peter was able to speak, just barely.

"You see, as we fought, I quickly got the upper hand and was about to strike her down. But she decided that, to die in my hand would be a terrible crime. So, she jumped out of my window and into the mouth of the octopus, taking your dear little fairy friend with her."

The Lost Boys screamed out disbelief words like, "No! You liar! She's not dead! I'm gonna get you for that! Margaret!"

But Peter, even Little, was frozen still with horror and doubt.

"No," Peter mumbled, and then shouted, "That's not true! You're lying!"

"Oh, am I?" Hook used his hand to dig into his pocket, never leaving Peter's face. "Perhaps this will prove it to you."

He took out an object and threw it in front of Peter.

There, before him, was Margaret's Peter Pan doll.

She was here. Which means . . . Hook was telling the truth.

She's dead.

His eyes became teary the longer he stared at the doll, unable to really believe that Margaret was gone. He bowed his head, feeling his heart break, overshadowed by darkness of depression.

A silent tear fell down his cheek.

He looked up at Hook, pure rage filling up his body.

"You," Peter shouted in fury. He jumped up onto his feet and charged after Hook. "You killed her!"

Unfortunately, the pirates held him back before he could touch Hook.

Hook merely laughed, fuming Peter's anger more. "Oh, the boy is being silly today, isn't he mates?"

Peter attempted to shrug off the pirates' grips on him, but their grip was too strong on him.

"But you gave your word!" Peter suddenly reminded Hook. "You swore you wouldn't hurt her!"

"I swore I wouldn't hunt down and harm Miss Benson," Hook reminded him. "However, it was she who came to me and attacked me, which led to her death. If you wish to blame anyone for her death, blame Miss Benson herself."

Finally, Peter's strength left him, leaving him to fall back on his knees, with the pirates grip still on him, and bowed his head away from public's eyes. Before he knew it, tears were falling out from his eyes.

He had lost Margaret forever. He may have already lost her after all the things she said to him. But she could have come to him and apologized. And now, she will never return to him and do just that. Peter didn't even know if Margaret was going to apologize to him.

But, why else would she come to the Jolly Roger. Peter was sure she came here to rescue him and his boys, only to fail. So, in a way, it was his fault that Margaret died.

He then remembered something else. Hook also said Tinker Bell was dead too. That only stabbed his heart even more. Now he had lost two of the closest friends he ever had, all in one night.

All because of him.

He felt his enemy's hook lay under his chin and pulled his face up, forcing him to face Captain Hook, whom Peter now hated with all of his heart.

"Oh, dear boy," Hook taunted him. "I've never realized this news would hurt you so badly."

Peter growled at him, glaring at him with the most hated look in Neverland.

"Well," Hook said, smiling wickedly. "I'm sure you will thank me when I end your life once and for all-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWW!

Just then, Hook jumped up in pain, shocking everyone on board, even Peter and the Lost Boys.

Hook had his arms on his bottom. He bounced around, shouting and whimpering.

Peter would have laughed at this if he was in a happier mood.

"SMEEE, SMEEE!" Hook shouted. "THERE"S SOMETHING ON MY BOTTOM! GET IT OUT NOW!"

"Don't worry, cap'n," Smee replied, following Hook as he continued bouncing around. "I'm coming!"

All the other pirates just watched in bewilderment.

"GET IT OFF, GET IT OFF, GET IT OOOOOOOFF!"

Finally, Smee caught up to Hook, seizing the coat tail. But Hook was moving too much and the coat tail was slightly tearing off.

"Cap'n! Cap't, stop! Hold still! Let me see what's the trouble!"

With great effort, Hook stood still and bent over, biting his lip in terrible pain from his behind.

Smee held the coat tail high up and, all of a sudden, chuckled after seeing Hook's bottom.

"Well, here's the problem, cap'n! There's a puppy biting on your behind! Oh, isn't that cute!"

Peter's head popped up. Puppy?

He looked behind him and, through the pirate crowd, he could see the mast where the Lost Boys were being tied up to. The rope that was tied to Little was now lying down on the deck.

Little had escaped.

Peter looked back and saw Hook's behind clearly. Little was now biting hard on Hook's bottom, her small body dangling above the ground.

"WELL, GET THAT BLASTED BEAST OFF OF ME!" Hook shouted, still feeling the pain Little was causing.

"All right there, little fellow," Smee kindly said to Little, reaching out his hands to her. "Let's get you off of there and-"

But Little had just released its grip on Hook's behind and fell on deck. Hook released a long sigh of sweet relief from the pain.

Only to scream again when Little bit his leg.

"GET IT OFF, GET IT OFF!" Hook shouted, shaking his leg violently, attempting to knock Little out. It only dragged the miniature puppy around with the leg. Smee tried to pull Little back, but because Hook's leg was moving too fast, Smee couldn't touch the puppy.

At last, after many harsh kicks from the bitten leg, Little finally released her grip and flew to the other side of the ship, bumping against its wall hard.

She landed on the floor, shaking her head, and looked up to see pirates staring menacingly at her. But Little only growled back at them.

Peter had never seen the adorable Little scary before. But, under a gleam of light, Peter noticed that Little's eyes and cheeks were wet.

That was when Peter realized that Little was acting out of rage over the loss of Margaret.

Little was fighting back in revenge for her dear friend and owner.

Little barked unkindly at the pirates and scratched their hands when they made an attempt to grab her.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a hook swooped in and slid under Little's collar, picking her up out of the fight with the pirates.

Hook raised Little close to him, but not too close, for Little was growling and waving her small paws at him, trying to scratch him.

"Perhaps you would like to be the first to walk the plank and join Miss Benson, hmm?" Hook snarled at Little, who only barked furiously at him. "Your choice."

He threw Little to the plank, which was already loaded up over the ocean below. However, Little was too fast and instantly ran off the plank back on the ship before the pirates could stop her. The Lost Boys cheered at her and shouted for her to go.

Little ran toward Hook, but Smee blocked Hook, holding his arms out to catch her. Little rapidly looked around, seeing pirates come toward her. She was surrounded.

Desperately, she ran to Peter, who had not moved from his spot on the deck (even when the pirates left him). Little jumped on Peter's lap and buried herself into him, trying to hide herself from the pirates. Peter was surprised for a second, but does his best to protect Little by covering her up with his upper body.

Margaret would have wanted for him to protect her puppy.

Unfortunately, it was all in vain. The pirates tore Little away from Peter, who would have reached out for her if his arms weren't still tied together. Peter struggled to escape his bond, but few of the pirates came and held him down, forcing him to continue watching.

The other pirates held Little tight, tying all of her four paws together and her mouth shut. Now, all Little could do was whimper in fear.

The pirates brought Little back to Hook, who used his hand to grab on her collar, dangling her before him.

"So, the plank's not good enough for you? Fine! Then you can take the easy way off!"

Hook walked to the side of the ship. Little's whimper increased, her tiny eyes widening in terror.

The Lost Boys' shouting increased even more, pleading for Hook to let Little go. Poor Tootles struggled as hard as he could, his eyes getting teary.

Peter struggled again, frantic to stop Hook. "No, Hook, please don't!"

Hook didn't hear Peter. Instead, he brought Little close to his face and whispered to her, "Be sure to give my regards to Ms. Benson."

With that, he swung Little out and over the rails of the ship. Little whimpered loudly as she disappeared to her watery grave.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" shouted Peter and the Lost Boys. They could do nothing as they lose another dear friend of theirs. Tootles screamed, tears falling down his chubby cheeks.

A tear fell down Peter's cheek, looking back at the doll still in front of him. He wanted to ignore everything; he didn't think he could take any more loss. He craved to hold the doll in his hands, just to see if he could feel Margaret's hands on it. But his hands were still tied and Peter had no strength to try. It would just be a waste.

All the pirates laughed cruelly at the captive boys. But Hook was still. His face turning pale as he quickly looked at his crew.

"QUIET!" Hook shouted. Slowly, the pirates obeyed and silence fell over the ship. Peter looked at Hook curiously, as the captain looked at the top of the rails, where Little disappeared over.

"Cap'n, what's wrong," Smee spoke to Hook.

"You all heard a splash, right," Hook asked Smee and his crew. The pirates didn't reply. They all looked at each other in confusion.

"Well, I don't think I would have heard a splash from all the noises we made," Smee answered.

Peter looked down, thinking of what this meant. How could they have heard Little's splash over all the noises? Or was there a splash at all?

Peter's eyes slowly widened, remembering an event so long ago that was similar to this situation.

Could it be?

Hook looked carefully at the rails, very suspicious and afraid. He slowly walked over to the rails and looked over it.

His eyes widened at what he saw. Then he slowly backed away.

There, flying up into view, was Margaret holding an unbounded Little in her arms.

And Margaret was mad.

"No one throws _my_ puppy overboard."

She threw Little at Hook. Little scratched Hook's face and jumped off. Then, Margaret kicked Hook so hard, he fell flat on his back.

Margaret landed on the rails and eight balls of light (four on one side of Margaret and four on her other side) flew up from over the rails.

One of them was Tinker Bell.

Peter was shocked frozen, unable to move or speak.

Margaret's alive. Tinker Bell was alive. Little was still alive.

Margaret stood there with the fairies' light surrounding her, making her look like an angel. Her eyes turned to Peter's and they stayed attached, refusing to look away.

The Lost Boys cheered at seeing Margaret, Tinker Bell, and Little okay. All the pirates, including Smee, were shocked.

Hook had turned from stunned to complete anger. He sat up and pointed at Margaret and the fairies.

"ATTACK!"

The battle had begun.

***PPIII***

Margaret jumped down onto the deck, her eyes still on Peter. But her view was blocked by the approaching, angry pirates, waving their swords at her.

Margaret quickly took out Peter's dagger from her pocket and blocked one of the pirates sword. She then kicked him hard on the stomach, causing him to fall back onto some of the pirates behind him.

She caught a glance from Tinker Bell and the fairy immediately flew after Peter.

_At least she will take care of Peter_, Margaret thought as she went back to fighting the pirates.

***PPIII***

Iridessa used her sunlight to blind the pirates, causing few of them to fall overboard and others to hit against themselves, knocking them unconscious. All the while, Iridessa repeatedly said, "Sorry," to each of them.

Silvermist and Rani flew on Brother Dove, firing water balls at the pirates. They threw them on the deck in front of some of them, causing them to slip on them. When the two water fairies ran out of water balls, Brother Dove flew back over the ocean, so the two fairies could gather more water, and then returned to the battle, continuing to attack the pirates with their water balls.

Rosetta and Fawn carried both ends of a vine and used it to cause pirates to trip on them, wrap it around a pirate and swung him around so that he would be too dizzy to fight, swung small objects at the pirate and hitting them square on the face, etc.

Just then, Rosetta spotted Smee walking around, not knowing what to do. Recognizing his description of the one that destroyed her home, Rosetta saw red and flew straight after Smee.

Before Smee knew it, Rosetta punched him across his face. Hard. More than once.

Fawn watched this in shock.

At last, Smee became dizzy, mumbling, "Yes mama, I do want a cookie please," before falling flat on his belly, unconscious.

"And that's for crushing my house," Rosetta shouted at Smee.

"Calm down, Rosetta," Fawn said, laying a comforting hand on Rosetta's shoulder. "Are you all right?"

Rosetta sighed as she gave Fawn a satisfied smile. "Oh, I feel much better." She took the vine. "Come on, sugar! Let's go kick some pirate booty!"

Rosetta flew back into battle and Fawn followed her.

Bobbles was holding a contraption that was a mix of spoons and an egg beater, another brilliant invention courtesy of Tinker Bell. Clank was carrying a large bag of nuts. While Bobbles turned the handle around repeatedly, Clank placed a nut on each spoon. The spoons then threw the nuts at the pirates, hitting each of them.

"Ha, ha," Bobbles cheerfully exclaimed at their success on beating the pirates. "We're knocking them out at precise aim!" He turned his head over to Clank. "More nuts, Clank!"

"More nuts, coming," Clank replied, refilling the spoons with nuts as they strike their victims again and again.

***PPIII***

Little immediately runs after the Lost Boys, avoiding the pirates and their swords. One of them caught Little's tail, but Fawn flew by him and kicked his nose hard. The pirate screamed in pain and released Little.

"Go, little one," Fawn said to Little, flying close to the puppy. Little quickly licks Fawn in appreciation (causing Fawn to giggle). "You're welcome," she said before she flew back to Rosetta.

Little finally arrived to the Lost Boys, who were distracted by the battle and the new fairies they had never seen before. Only Tootles saw Little coming and he beamed at his friend.

Little used her teeth to tear the ropes binding the boys apart. It was then that the other Lost Boys noticed Little and starts helping by tearing the rope off of them.

Finally, the ropes fell loose and the Lost Boys are free. Little happily jumped into Tootles' arms and hugged her tight.

"Let's get em," Slightly exclaimed and the other Lost Boys hollowed as they all charged after the pirates, picking up what weapons they could find and joined the battle.

Tootles set Little down and they both followed the Lost Boys into battle.

***PPIII***

Tinker Bell finally made it to Peter.

Peter beamed at the sight of her. "Tinker Bell!"

Tinker Bell opened her mouth to speak, but she was suddenly slapped so hard, she flew and hit against the cabin's wall.

"Tink!" Peter shouted.

He then felt a sharp point under his chin. He looked beside him to see Hook holding his sword at him.

"At least I can finish you off," Hook said.

Frowning, Peter swiftly kicked Hook's leg (the one Little bit earlier) and Hook winched, lowering his sword. Then, Peter jumped up and used his body to push Hook harshly to the floor.

"At least I can fight back," Peter retorted.

He turned to see big pirates charging after him. Peter jumped up in the air, but only to fall down.

Peter was shocked. He still couldn't fly.

Before he knew it, the two big pirates pushed Peter up against the cabin wall. Peter struggled to escape, but their hold on him was too strong. One of them pulled out a dagger and held it close to Peter's face.

Just then, Terence appeared and, as quick as the wind, he threw small pixie dusts on the pirates' eyes, blinding them. The big pirates screamed in pain and stepped away from Peter, covering their eyes.

Peter turned to Terence. "Thanks."

Terence didn't hear him. He had noticed Tinker Bell on the floor close by. However, Tinker Bell had just recovered and flew up to join the two males.

"Quick, Tink, untie me," Peter said.

Immediately, Tink flew to Peter's bounded hands and pulls on one end of the rope, pulling on it to untie him.

But, after few strong tugs on the rope, Peter's hands remained tied.

"I can't," Tink exclaimed to Peter. "It's too tight!"

"Here, let me help," Terence offered as he flew to grab another end of the rope. Tink smiled at his offered hand and they both pulled on the ropes as hard as they could.

But the rope was still too tight for both of them.

"Peter," Margaret's voice called to Peter. He turned around to see Margaret making her way over to Peter, all the while sword fighting with pirates coming at her.

Peter froze at the sight of Margaret. He did not know what to think. He was joyful to see her again, safe and well. But he was also still hurt from the memory of her verbally attack on him just yesterday.

He wasn't sure whether to hug her or to hit her.

These emotions were so new to him.

Before he knew it, Margaret appeared behind him, using his dagger to cut the ropes on Peter's wrists. Peter rubbed his red ringed wrists as Tink and Terence flew up beside Peter and Margaret.

Margaret, smiling shyly, holds out Peter's dagger to him. "This belongs to you."

Peter hesitantly took his dagger back, unsure of what to say to her. They both stared at each other, wondering if they were still friends or not.

"Your ears," was all Peter could come up with, just noticing Margaret's pointed ears.

"I'll explain later," Margaret quickly replied, hiding her ears under her hair.

"Look out!" Terence and Tink shouted, causing Peter and Margaret to jump back into action when two ugly looking pirates charged after them, raising their swords high in the sky.

Unfortunately, now that Margaret had no sword of her own, she was left completely defenseless. It was at that notice that Peter pushed Margaret behind him and blocked the pirates' swords with his dagger.

He and the pirates share few strikes, blocks, and misses, but, considering that Peter was better at fighting while flying, and Peter, at the moment, couldn't fly anymore, he was slowly losing the fight.

Luckily, Margaret threw a stray cannonball on one of the pirate's foot. The pirate screamed like a girl and accidentally punched the other pirate.

"Peter, why can't you fly," Tink asked him.

Peter didn't want to answer. He didn't want to be embarrassed by the fact that he's useless now.

Studying Peter, as if reading his mind, Margaret rushed to Peter and pulled him as far away from the battle as they could (which was far on the other side of the ship). Tink followed them and Terence was about to join them, when Tink told him to go help the other fairies.

Once they were far, they hid behind some barrels. Instantly, Margaret wrapped her arms around Peter and hugged him as tight as she could. Peter was very confused. But then, he heard her talking to his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Peter. I never wanted to say all those things to you. And I know it's because of me you can't fly."

Peter had an urged to retort that that wasn't the reason and that she was just making it all about herself. But, Peter couldn't help but admit a little that he couldn't fly with all those hateful words in his head.

Margaret pulled back and did something that she hadn't done for a long while now.

She kissed him on the cheek.

"But I hope that makes you feel better," Margaret finished with a smile.

That kiss brought so many good memories of her in his head. Memories of their first meeting, their many flights together, them having fun, dancing in the night sky . . .

He suddenly heard a happy gasp from Margaret. He looked down to discover that he was finally floating above the ground.

***PPIII***

"Quick, get the weapons," Hook shouted at the pirates. Few of the pirates went below deck, while the others stayed on deck to fight against their enemies.

But the few of those pirates came back up with no weapons Hook had wished for.

"Well, where are they," Hook demanded.

"Sorry, cap'n," one of the pirates answered nervously. "But none of the weap'ns work anymore!"

"Not even the explosives ones?!"

The pirate shook his head. "No, cap'n."

Hook's blood boiled like mad. His face turned to a deep shade of livid red. Now there was no way he could fight back and overtake his enemies.

There was only one thing left to do.

"PETER PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN," Hook shouted to the sky. "COME OUT AND FIGHT ME, BOY!"

***PPIII***

Suddenly, Peter, Margaret, and Tink heard Hook calling for Peter, and he sounded extremely angry.

Peter turned back to Margaret. "You need to get out of here."

"No, I want to fight!"

"But you don't have a sword to fight with!"

Margaret fell silent, knowing this to be true.

But then, she said, "If I find my own sword, I'm joining in the fight."

Peter wanted so much to say no. But it's Margaret. It's like asking Peter to stop having fun.

It's just not possible.

"Fine," Peter said at last. He turned to Tink, who had a blank face. "Watch over Margaret."

It took a while for Tink to finally agree. Even though she was still friends with Margaret, she still loved Peter.

Peter was about to jump up and go after Hook, when Margaret unexpectedly stopped him.

"Wait!" Margaret had a very hesitant expression before she spoke again. "There's something you might need to know about Hook. It's hard to explain, but Hook found some magic to make me say all those hurtful things to you. He wanted me to say all that so you could be weakened."

Peter took a moment to let this news sink in. So it was all Hook's fault that Margaret hurt him.

Actually, now that he thought about it, it made perfect sense. Hook would go whatever lengths to hurt and weaken him. Using Margaret was the perfect tool for his plan. And it all worked.

Peter felt his body burn with anger. This was a new low for Captain Hook. And he was going to pay for it.

Without another word, Peter jumped up high into the sky and hunted down for Hook.

"I hope that wasn't a mistake," Margaret said to Tink, both looking worriedly at the flying boy.

***PPIII***

Suddenly, Little spotted Margaret's Peter Pan doll on deck and being stepped over by pirates.

She ran toward the doll and, using her teeth, she clutched onto the doll before another pirate could step on it.

With the doll in her mouth, Little desperately searched the ship, looking for Margaret.

Finally, she saw Margaret with Tinker Bell from afar, just barely hidden behind some barrels. At once, she ran for her owner, trying to bark with the doll still in her mouth.

"Little," Margaret exclaimed once she saw Little. She kneeled down and caught Little in her arms. Little dropped the doll on Margaret's lap, shaking her tail and barking at her.

"Thanks, Little," Margaret said as she placed her doll inside one of her robe pocket. "Listen, I need a sword. Can you help me find one?"

Little barked as if to say, "Sure," and quickly jumped off of Margaret's arms.

Little ran to the nearest pirate and bit his leg as hard as she could.

The pirate shrieked, dropping his sword. Little released him and the pirate clutched on his bitten leg, hopping around and moaning in pain.

Quickly, Margaret ran in and took the sword, pushing the wounded pirate to the floor.

"Thanks, Little!"

Little replied with another bark.

Margaret turned to Tinker Bell. "Go help your friends. I'll take it from here."

Tinker Bell shook her head and spoke in jingling bells. But, to Little's surprise, Margaret responded to Tinker Bell as if Margaret understood the fairy.

"I know you promised Peter to take care of me, but I can take care of myself. And, if he gets mad, I'll take the blame. Now go!"

Tinker Bell hesitated, but finally flew off.

Margaret looked down to see Little's surprised and confused look on her small face.

"Umm, I'll explain later," Margaret said. Trusting her friend, Little accepted it.

Now that Margaret has a sword, she and Little went back into battle, joining the Lost Boys on fighting against the pirates.

***PPIII***

"HOOOOOK," Peter shouted once he's over Hook. His enemy looked up and his face fell in shock. "YOU'RE GONNA PAY FOR WHAT YOU'VE DONE!"

Peter swooped down, his dagger ready to strike at Hook.

But Hook's sword met Peter's dagger as their blades hit against each other with a _clang_.

Both Peter Pan and Captain Hook glared at each other with fuming eyes.

Then Peter hit Hook's stomach by using his feet, pushing Hook back several feet.

He had hit just under Hook's wounded chest, but the impact caused Hook to bend over in slight pain, clutching his stomach.

Hook looked up at Peter, who was still hovering above deck. "Come on," the boy shouted at Hook. "Fight like a man! You are a man, right?"

Hook roared in anger as he charged after Peter, waving his sword at the boy.

But, thanks to Peter's recovered flying ability, he was able to swiftly avoid Hook's attack.

Both of them fought by colliding their blades against each other and missing their strike.

But it was pretty clear that Peter was superior in the battle.

"Face it, Codfish," Peter mocked. "You can't beat me! You just can't reach to my height!" As if to make a point, Peter flew higher above Hook.

Hook's blazing eyes stared at Peter with extreme hate. But he silently and regretfully agreed with the boy. Hook couldn't beat a flying boy while standing on the floor. They had to be evenly matched in order to make this battle fair on both side.

Which brought Hook an idea.

He grabbed the nearest fairy (which was poor Clank) and shook the fairy, causing Clank's pixie dust to fall onto Hook's head.

Once he had some pixie dust, and a happy thought in mind, Hook threw Clank away and started floating up above the ship.

Clank became dizzy from the shaking, landing onto the floor.

"Clank," Bobbles flew down to his friend. He held the contraption over his shoulder. "Are ye all right?"

"I'll let you know in a minute," Clank answered before falling on Bobbles, unconscious. Unfortunately, since Clank was big and heavy, Bobbles fell flat on the ground, with Clank's body on top of him. The contraption fell off of Bobbles and landed on the floor next to them.

Bobbles tried to push Clank off of him. "Get off, Clank!"

Peter's arrogant smirk quickly turned to complete surprise when he saw Hook flying up until they were now facing each other.

"Hey, no fair," Peter exclaimed. "I thought you didn't have any happy thoughts!"

"Oh, the only happy thought I have is you lying dead at my feet," Hook replied with an evil grin.

"Yeah, keep dreaming," Peter said nonchalantly. "Fine, if you wanna play my game, then let's go!"

And so they did.

For the rest of their battle, Peter and Hook flew all over the ship, sword fighting as well as kicking each other as hard as they could. However, because Peter's flying ability was better and more experienced, while Hook was just getting use to his new flying ability, even higher above the ship, Peter was still superior.

And Hook noticed this too.

He knew that, eventually, Peter will defeat him, again, and Hook will be beaten, as usual.

But Hook didn't want to be defeated again. Not again.

There has to be some way to beat Peter Pan once and for all.

But how?

Peter suddenly knocked Hook's back and Hook fell on top of a mast. Hook's body was facing the deck below him.

There, his eyes caught sight of Margaret sword fighting a pirate with no teeth and wearing a bandana.

That's when Hook caught another idea.

He jumped off of the mast just before Peter could stab him from behind.

"Come on, boy," Hook shouted at Peter. "Let's see which of our flying skills is greater!"

Hook quickly went flying off and Peter followed him.

They flew all over the ship, with Peter chasing Hook. They flew around the masts, around the surface of the ocean, and then over the decks (carefully avoiding the pirates, the Lost Boys, and the Fairies).

Finally, Hook headed straight for Margaret and caught her surprised by grabbing her and forcing her front body to face the coming Peter. From behind her, he gripped her arm on his hand and hovered his hook under her neck.

Peter suddenly froze in midair, right in front of them.

Margaret froze too, under Hook's hold and hook.

"THIS BATTLE IS MINE," Hook shouted to everyone in the entire ship deck. "SURRENDER OR I WILL CUT HER THROAT!"

Everyone stopped fighting and all the good guys looked in horror at the position Margaret was in.

Margaret struggled to escape out of Hook's grasp on her. But his grip was too strong and it only caused the sharp point of the hook to give her a little cut on her neck.

Margaret gasp in pain, feeling drops of blood falling down her neck.

"No," Peter exclaimed, seeing the blood on Margaret's neck. His feet landed on the deck, but Peter paid no attention to it.

Before all the fairies could do anything, the pirates took the distracted fairies and are now trapped in the pirates' fists. They tried to struggle, but their captors were too strong. Brother Dove barely escaped from the pirates and he quickly flew away.

Bobbles had finally come out from under Clank, who was just waking up.

Clank rubbed his head, groaning. "Did we win?"

A pirate suddenly wrapped his hands tight around Bobbles and Clank, raising them up to face everyone.

"No, Clank," Bobbles answered in disappointment. "We didn't."

"Oh," Clank said, looking at the other trapped fairies.

The Lost Boys, in anger, started charging after Hook to save Margaret. Unfortunately, they were caught by other pirates. They struggle like mad, but the pirates refused to release them.

Little charged after Margaret, but she too was caught by another pirate. Although the pirate was gripping on Little's neck, he was still frightened of the puppy and kept her at arms length from him.

All the good guys have been captured, leaving Peter all alone.

His eyes were only on Margaret's fearful eyes.

"Drop your weapon, boy," Hook ordered Peter. "Or the girl dies."

Margaret tried to shake her head in an attempt to convince Peter not to, but the hook's sharp end came even closer to her throat and Margaret was forced to stay very still.

Peter couldn't hear anything. He couldn't feel anything. All he could see was Margaret close to death.

He didn't want to give up so easily. He didn't want to lose. He didn't want to be defeated by his longtime enemy. He didn't want Hook to win. He didn't want to give up at all.

But he also didn't want to lose Margaret.

Peter sighed as he closed his eyes and bowed his head. Without a second thought, he dropped his dagger. The sound of his dagger hitting against the deck shook his heart.

"Peter," Margaret tearfully whispered to Peter. He looked up at her and returned with a carefree, lopsided grin. But even he knew it was fake.

"Hold him," Hook gleefully ordered to his pirate.

Two pirates came on either side of Peter and grabbed both his arms. They pulled the depressed boy to the main mast and held him there.

"Thank you, Miss Benson," Hook whispered cruelly to Margaret, who couldn't look away from Peter. "It's because of you that my final wish will come true."

Margaret gasped. Hook had used her again. And, if Hook does kill Peter, it will be her entire fault. No matter what she did, she would make things worse. And she wasn't sure if she could handle Peter's death at all. Tinker Bell's death was hard enough. But Peter's?

Tears flowed down her cheeks. Hook pulled his hook away from Margaret's throat and harshly pushed her to the floor. He stepped over the weeping girl and headed straight for Peter.

"Well," Hook said to Peter with a wicked smile. "I could have you lying at my feet, but here is good." He held his hand out at his side. "Pistol!"

Smee, who was now conscious, came up to Hook's side and handed him a pistol.

All the Lost Boys shouted at Hook, begging him to not kill Peter. All the fairies said the same, only in their fairy bell language. And Little howled, struggling to escape.

Peter raised his heavy head up and glared at Hook. Hook only grinned as he raised the pistol up until its muzzle was right in front of Peter, very close to Peter's face.

"Well, Mr. Pan, it seems that you have reached to the end of your grand adventure. Any last words, boy," Hook asked mockingly.

Peter only glared at Hook and said, "To die would be a great adventure."

Hook didn't understand Peter, nor did he really care. He was finally going to win this never-ending battle.

However, before he could say anything, he heard a scream from behind him.

"Cap'n, look," piped Smee. Hook turned his head to see Margaret, now with a new sword, coming after him to stab him.

But another pirate caught her just in time, ripping the sword from her hand and ruthlessly holding her. Margaret tried to struggle, but because of her emotional state and the pirate's strong arms, it was useless; she was trapped.

"Now, now," Hook spoke. "Perhaps Miss Benson here would like a few words for the boy before he dies. Bring her to him and let her speak to him."

The strong pirate obediently pushed Margaret so hard, she fell on top of Peter.

"Silence now," Hook commanded. "And let them have their last moment together."

Realizing the meaning of Hook's words, Margaret wrapped her arms around Peter's neck. Peter would have held her if those two pirates weren't still holding both his arms.

But, right now, just feeling Margaret hold him was good enough.

"I'm so sorry," Margaret whispered tearfully to him.

"It wasn't your fault," Peter whispered back, burying his face in Margaret's shoulder. He couldn't help but feel his eyes getting wet.

"Yes it is! It was all my fault! If I never came here, none of this would have-"

"Don't," Peter said in what's left of his strong voice. "Just don't."

Margaret nodded, clutching onto Peter more.

After a long moment of feeling each other's closeness, Margaret pulled back, silently weeping.

She gave him one last kiss on his cheek. "I love you, Peter Pan."

Peter may never understand love, but hearing Margaret confessing her love for him finally brought a tear to his eyes and down his kissed cheek.

All too soon, Margaret was roughly pulled back and now Hook again stood before Peter.

He held the pistol right back in front of Peter's face, his finger wrapped around its trigger.

All the pirates looked on in eagerness. The fairies looked away. The Lost Boys were crying and weakly pleading for Hook not to kill Peter. Little howled in despair and covered her eyes with her miniature paws.

Tinker Bell was crying so hard that her head fell on the pirate's finger wrapped around her.

Margaret's sobbing eyes stayed on Peter.

And Peter . . . He raised his head up and smiled, waiting for the next adventure to come.

Hook pulled the pistol's hammer and put pressure on the trigger. His smile was evil and victorious.

"At long last, Peter Pan. You will die."


	16. Ch15 Ka-Boom!

**Ok, this story is almost done, just one more chapter left after this. And, if you felt this chapter is a bit weak, then it's because I had a hard time focusing on this chapter. Sorry! Hope you like it!**

**Chapter 15**

**Ka-Boom!**

All of a sudden, a burst of wind flew and pushed Hook's pistol to the side, just in time for Hook to fire the pistol.

The pistol ended up shooting at a spot right in front of a pirate's foot. The pirate jumped back in surprise.

Everyone looked at Hook in pure shock and confusion and Hook stared down at his pistol, scared of it as if his own weapon had turned against him.

He turned to look back at Peter only to be face to face with another fairy.

But this fairy looked different. She had long black hair and was wearing purple clothing.

And she was smirking at him, crossing her arms.

Before Hook could do anything, the fairy pushed her hands forward and, suddenly, more wind flew down and harshly pushed Hook to the deck.

The fairy's smirk grew wider, placing her now fisted hands on her hips confidently.

"Vidia," the captured fairies exclaimed.

The fairy turned to them and said, "Thought you needed some back-up."

She let out a sharp whistle and the wind carried that whistle over the ship.

And then, flying up into view, were hundreds and hundreds of fairies.

Margaret and the captured fairies beamed at the sight of them. But the others gazed at the fairies in shock and wonder.

"Oh, my," Smee spoke first. "They're beautiful!"

At the front of the fairies was Queen Clarion herself. Around her are the Ministers of the seasons, with their fairies behind them. And, right beside Queen Clarion, was Fairy Mary cracking her knuckles, getting ready to kick some booty.

The fairies hovered there for a while. Then Queen Clarion nodded her head and, rapidly, all the other fairies charged after the bad guys, screaming.

It took a while before the pirates realized that the fairies were going to attack them. Before they knew it, they were being hit by pastries from the Bakery Fairies, blinded by the lights made by the Light Fairies, attacked by birds that the Animal Fairies sat on (with Brother Dove leading the way), hit by different contraptions made by the Tinker Fairies, and so on.

Every one of the pirates were attacked by different fairies and, because of that, they were forced to release their hold on their prisoners. The captive fairies are now free and joined the other fairies in the battle. The Lost Boys were free and they excitedly gathered their weapons and went back to fighting the pirates.

But Margaret went straight for a now free Peter, and Tinker Bell and Little went straight to them. They all held Peter, unable to believe that they were so close to losing Peter for good. Peter hugged them back, thinking the same thing.

But unfortunately, their embrace was cut short when a pirate almost sliced them in half if Peter hadn't pulled them down in time.

Angry at their interruption, Tinker Bell flew up and hit the pirate square on the face as hard as she could. With that distraction, Peter pulled Margaret out of battle and entered into the Captain's Cabin, with Little and Tinker Bell right behind them.

Peter shut the door and turned to face Margaret. "Now you _have_ to stay out of danger. Stay here and don't come out until I come get you."

Margaret wanted to refuse his request. But how could she when every time she picked a fight, it always led to someone else getting hurt because of her action?

Perhaps it would be better if she just sit this one out, so she doesn't ruin everything, like she had done before.

Margaret finally nodded her head. "Okay, I'll stay."

Peter was taken aback, as well as Tinker Bell and Little, at her answer.

But she said she will stay, so that should satisfy Peter.

"All right, then. I'll be back."

And, with that, Peter left the cabin, with Tinker Bell behind him (but not before Tink gave Margaret a worried glance).

Margaret sighed, feeling very uncomfortable on staying hidden while the battle goes on outside.

She sat down on the floor and waited. Little silently walked up and into Margaret's embrace, as they both listened to the exciting battle from behind the door.

***PPIII***

"HOOK," Peter shouted at Hook, who was still sitting on the floor, trying to comprehend what was happening on his ship. "I'M GONNA KILL YOU FOR WHAT YOU ALMOST DID TO MARGARET!"

As if broken from a trance, Hook jumped back up and pulled out his sword. "Well, it's not _my _fault you have a strong weakness for the girl."

Immediately, the furious boy charged after Hook and, once again, began sword fighting with Hook. Only this time, both of them fought each other with pure and uncontrollable rage toward their enemy for their own reasons.

***PPIII***

As the Lost Boys fought the pirates, they couldn't help but get distracted by the countless fairies on the ship. They never even knew there were more than one fairies in Neverland.

In fact, the more fairies there were, the more pixie dust fell on the ship, making the Lost Boys worried that the ship will fly from all those pixie dusts.

It was then that the Lost Boys felt the ship rising little by little. Even some of the pirates noticed this, but the other pirates were too busy fighting off the fairies.

The Lost Boys turned to see Peter fighting against Hook like they always do. But something was very different. They fought more violently, as if they were both desperate to kill their enemy. Worse of all, they paid no attention to what was going on around them. Both of their fuming eyes were only on each other.

This made the Lost Boys scared for and of their leader.

***PPIII***

Queen Clarion stayed above the ship, watching the battle below. She was not a fighter, but she was willing to help when her fairies are in trouble. But all her fairies were capable of helping themselves and they stayed away from trouble, making the queen very proud of them.

She suddenly noticed that their pixie dusts was making the ship rise above the ocean.

Oh, that's not good.

She quickly searched and flew down on deck. She finally found who she was looking for.

Fairy Gary was repeatedly punching a tiny pirate, laughing in enjoyment.

"Fairy Gary," Queen Clarion called to him.

He instantly stopped what he was doing (after punching the tiny pirate one last time) and flew to the queen.

He bowed respectfully to her. "What is ye wish, my queen."

Queen Clarion smiled at his action. "We are losing too much pixie dust on this ship and it is now rising above the ocean."

"Oh, I felt the ship movin'. I thought them big pirates were makin' a ruckus."

"Please gather your pixie dust fairies and collect all of the pixie dust on the ship, so that we will have plenty to return home."

"Aye, m'lady." Obediently, Fairy Gary flew off to find his pixie dust fairies so that they will follow Queen Clarion's orders.

Eventually, all the pixie dust fairies have collected as much pixie dusts as they could, but there were still some on the ship, now making it hover a few feet above the ocean.

Queen Clarion smiled as she flew from the distance.

***PPIII***

Because hundreds of fairies were flying all over the ship's deck, most of their pixie dusts would fall onto the floor.

However, some of the pixie dusts landed on several pirates, causing them to float. When they realized what was happening to them, they wave their arms and legs, as if afraid to be high above deck.

Some pixie dust fairies saw this and removed the dusts from the pirates.

Unfortunately, now with no pixie dust, the flying pirates fell flat on the floor.

But most of the pirates were big and heavy. And, when they fell on deck, they ended up falling on each other, and their impact caused the floor under them to collapse under them, sending them below deck.

They landed on a pile of weapons that no longer worked and the weapons were crushed underneath the pirates' fat body.

The pirates groaned and, getting up, they angrily went back up on deck, back to battling the fairies.

But what they left behind were the ruins of the weapons. Now the only thing covering the floor are the gunpowder from the weapons.

Later, one of the ray of sunlight created by the light fairies appeared down through the hole on deck.

There, the ray light lay on the gunpowder, unnoticed by the light fairies.

Suddenly, smoke starts to rise from the gunpowder.

***PPIII***

The battle continued on for a long while, Peter and Hook still fighting each other and the fairies and Lost Boys still fighting against the pirates.

All of a sudden, there was a huge explosion that shook the ship and blasted through the deck from below, where the gunpowder had been. The ship fell hard back to the surface of the ocean, and the impact weakened the bottom of the ship, releasing streams of the salty water through the bottom. Fire now spread throughout the deck of the ship and some of the wrecks from the floor of the deck were now everywhere, including over at the now crumbled Captain's Cabin.

All the fairies were thrown away from the impact of the explosion and everyone else fell to what's left of the floor.

Some of the pirates and the Lost Boys were trapped under broken pieces of the deck.

Once Hook was able to stand up, he looked over at his once again destroyed ship in horror. "NOOOOOOOOOOO! MY SHIIIIIIP!"

Hook ran around the ruined ship, trying to find a way to fix it.

"Cap'n," Smee cried to Hook as he made his way to him. "Cap'n! We must abandon ship! This place is going to blow!"

"NOOOO," Hook shouted, trying to put pieces of this ship back together with little success. "NOOOOO, I MUST SAVE MY SHIP!"

Smee then wrapped his big arms around Hook and pulled the panic Hook toward a rowboat, where most of the pirates were gathering at.

***PPIII***

Peter finally recovered from his fall and stared at the wreckage of the ship.

Few of the fairies, including Tinker Bell and Terence, flew up to Peter.

"We have to leave the ship," Tinker Bell urgently told Peter. "Before more gunpowder explodes and destroys the ship!"

Peter saw hundreds of fairies flying far away from the ship and back to Neverland.

Peter heard cries and he looked to see the Lost Boys trapped under wreckages on the ship.

"Not without my men," Peter said.

He took a step forward, but stopped. He just remembered something very important.

"Margaret!"

He turned around and ran to the now destroyed Captain's Cabin. He ran to it and tried pulling the wreckages away, but they were too heavy.

"Margaret," Peter shouted through the gaps of the wreckages. "Margaret!"

"Peter, we're running out of time," Tink hurriedly informed him. "Look, I can fit through those gaps; I'll go help Margaret. You go help the Lost Boys."

Peter hesitated, wanting to help Margaret so much.

But he may have no choice.

"Okay," Peter said. "But hurry!"

Tink nodded to him and they both separated to different directions.

As quick as he could, Peter helped the Lost Boys out of the wreckage and (with help from the leftover pixie dust from the ship), he helped the boys fly above the ship and led them toward Neverland.

All the while, his mind was on Margaret, hoping with all of his heart that she will make it out in time.

***PPIII***

Margaret groaned as she woke up. She went to get up, but something was preventing her to.

She looked up to see pieces of the ship covering her.

She suddenly remembered what happened earlier. While she sat waiting in the Captain's Cabin, something exploded. And, before she could investigate, all went blank.

Then she heard Peter calling her name.

But that must have been a dream, for she could no longer hear him anymore.

Then, Margaret remembered something.

Little!

"Little!" Margaret immediately pushed the pieces off of her and searched the wreckage, but she couldn't find Little. She was with her when the explosion happened. Where is she now? "Little!"

She frantically threw the pieces out of the way to find her puppy.

She gasped in relief when she finally found Little. However, Little was unconscious and she had tiny bruises on her small body from the impact.

Margaret hurriedly pushed the wreckages off of Little and carefully took her puppy into her arms.

"Little," Margaret whispered tearfully to her beloved friend. She could feel her puppy still breathing, so Little was still alive. She gently held her puppy close to her, so happy that Little wasn't dead.

"Margaret!" She heard a voice calling for her.

Margaret looked up just in time to see Tinker Bell and her fairies friends fly through the gaps of the wreckages and up to her.

One of the fairies, Margaret remembered it was Fawn, gasped in horror at the sight of Little.

"Margaret, we need to get out of here," Tinker Bell urgently told Margaret. "Before this place blows up!"

Quickly getting the picture, Margaret hastily went to follow the fairies out, holding Little close to her.

Unfortunately, there was a wreckage barrier that was blocking her from the outside, and the gaps there were too small for her to crawl through. Margaret tried to push against the barrier, but it wouldn't budge.

The fairies tried to help Margaret by pushing the barrier as well, but even the little strength they had could not help her.

"What are we going to do," a worried fairy, must be Iridessa, exclaimed. "We'll all be destroyed if we don't get out of here!"

Margaret stopped. Something dawned on her. An idea that was both great, but also terrible.

"But you fairies can get out." Margaret sadly glanced down at her puppy, then looked back at the fairies.

"Margaret?" spoke Tinker Bell, looking at her as if figuring out what Margaret had thought of. And clearly didn't like it.

"Listen," Margaret said urgently to Tinker Bell. "Little can get through those gaps. Take her outside and to safety."

Fawn instantly goes to Little, but the other fairies didn't move, staring at Margaret in shock.

"But what about you," Terence asked her.

Margaret paused for a moment, but then put on a reassured smile. "Don't worry. I'll find my way out."

The fairies were about to refuse, as if knowing she was lying, but Margaret was already pushing Little to them. "No, hurry! I'll join you in a second! Go!"

The fairies hesitated, but they were given no other choice but to carry Little and fly through a gap. Only Tinker Bell look back at Margaret with a worried glance before the fairies disappeared through the gaps with Little.

Now that Little was safely off the ship, Margaret began searching for a way to escape.

She still had no plan to die here. Not like this.

At last, she saw a large gap far from her, where the windows use to be. Now there was only one window and it had been shattered, leaving behind a big enough gap for her.

Margaret could see outside through the gap, just waiting for her.

Overjoyed to see her way out of here, Margaret ran toward it.

Only to be pulled back by something.

She looked down and, to her horror, the end of her nightdress was stuck amongst a pile of wreckages.

Margaret tried to push the wreckages off, but they remained stuck where it was. She started to desperately pull her nightdress as hard as she could.

Her heart began racing with every tug on her dress, feeling a mental clock ticking dangerously for the big explosion to happen.

***PPIII***

The fairies quickly flew up into the sky, carrying the still unconscious puppy with them.

But, as she looked back at the ship, Tinker Bell could not help but feel guilty for leaving Margaret behind.

However, this could mean that Peter will now be hers again.

But would that be right?

"Tink, what are you doing," Terence shouted at her, for Tink had just released her hold on Little and floated there, staring at the burning ship in a deep, mental debate.

Terence went to her and grabbed her hand, but, before he could ask her what was going on, the ship below them exploded.

This explosion was so huge and powerful that it covered the entire ship and blew Tink and Terence farther away from the ship.

***PPIII***

From the rowboats far from the ship, Captain Hook and all the pirates watched the explosion with horror and sadness.

Hook was worse of all and he let out a loud and long, "NOOOOOOOOOO", crying like a baby after losing his favorite toy. Smee only patted Hook on his back in an attempt to comfort him.

***PPIII***

Peter had just helped his men and all the fairies land safely on the shores of Neverland when the explosion happened.

They all watched the ship blow up from afar, some in horror and some in wonderment.

Peter had never seen an explosion like that before and he sure was lucky not to be there. He probably wouldn't have survived from that.

He looked back at the group and instantly noticed something very wrong.

Margaret still wasn't here.

"Look," Slightly shouted up at the sky.

They all look up and saw a few fairies carrying Little to them.

Little didn't look bad, just tiny bruises from here and there. And, by the time the fairies reached to them, Little had started to wake up.

All the Lost Boys immediately rushed over and held out their hands for Little, looking happy and worried for their small friend. The fairies gently lay Little into the boys' hands and the Lost Boys protectively held her, all happy to see her all right. Tootles was the closest to Little and started kissing Little's head.

Little smiled and licked Tootles' chubby cheek, causing the boy to giggle.

Peter would have been happy to see Little alive if he wasn't already worried about the fact that Margaret wasn't with them.

Neither was Tink.

"Where's Margaret? And Tink?"

The fairies looked at him in shock and exchanged depressing looks amongst each other.

Then they turned to the burning ship.

Peter turned to their direction and, seeing the burning ship, a cloud of horror grew inside his head and heart.

"No," Peter whispered.

And, before anyone knew it, Peter rocketed up from the shores and across the ocean, straight toward the destroyed ship.

***PPIII***

"There, there," Smee said to Hook as his captain cried on Smee's shoulder, with Smee still patting his back in comfort. The other pirates looked away in embarrassment. "It will be alright, cap'n."

"Uh," spoke one of the pirates. "Do ye hear something?"

They all quiet down to listen.

There was a ticking noise. And it was coming from the waters.

Turning paler, Hook looked over the rowboat and down at the surface.

"B-b-but," Hook quivered in fear. "It c-can't b-b-be! I was r-r-rid of that m-monster!"

The ticking noise went louder, but the crocodile remained to be seen.

"Uh, cap'n?" Smee piped.

Hook looked up, really not wanting to turn around.

But he knew he must.

Very slowly, he turned around and there, on the other side of the rowboat, was his old enemy, the Ticking Crocodile, very much alive.

And the creature had his huge, vengeful eyes on Hook.

Hook shrieked and the Crocodile roared.

The Crocodile jumped after Hook, but Hook quickly moved aside, having the Crocodile to instead land back into the ocean.

The Crocodile resurfaced and instantly searched for Hook.

Still screaming, Hook took hold on both oars and rapidly started to row his rowboat as far away from the Crocodile.

However, Hook was rowing so face, the rowboat shook and zoomed across the ocean, causing the pirates inside to collapse inside their boat.

Refusing to give up, the Crocodile hurriedly chased after Hook as the frightened captain rowed him and his crew toward the horizon.

***PPIII***

Tink had recovered from the explosion quickly, but it was no use.

She saw below her a giant mess of the remains of the ship floating on the surface, some of them still burning.

And, among the ruins of the Jolly Roger, Tink could not see any sign of Margaret.

Which means . . . she's gone.

Tink could not believe it. It really happened. And not by her hands. Margaret was gone. For good. Like she had wanted.

But instead, Tink started to cry.

Terence, recovering and staring at the ship in shock, sees Tink and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her to him in comfort, allowing Tink to cry on his chest for a moment.

Tink suddenly heard splashes from below and they both looked down.

"Oh no," Tink gasped.

There was Peter, desperately searching through the wreckages and the surface, looking for Margaret.

As he searched, he started to sink lower and lower until his body was touching to waters. But he didn't notice this. He was too frantic on finding Margaret.

Taking pity on him, Tink flew down and went closer to Peter. "Peter?"

Peter did not hear her. He kept on searching, even going so far as to push away burning wood with his bare hands, not even flinching from the pain.

"Peter," Tink tried again. "It's too late."

"No," Peter mumbled. "No, I can find her. She's still alive. She has to be. She has to be."

Peter continues to mumble as his search became more and more desperate to the point that he couldn't stop, holding onto a single, weak string of hope that Margaret was still alive.

What's worse, Peter's body was now sinking into the ocean.

"Peter!" Tink quickly flew to Peter and grabbed his top clothing, pulling him up. However, he was too heavy for her. Terence flew down to grab Peter's top and pulling him up as well, helping her.

But Peter was moving so fast that the two struggling fairies were having difficulty holding him up. And, no matter what, he was still sinking.

"Peter," Tink exclaimed to him. "Peter, stop! Stop moving! She's gone!"

"No," Peter shouted, his voice getting weaker and weaker. "She's not gone! She's not, she's not, she's not!"

This only caused Peter to sink even lower until the surface was up to his chest.

Finally having enough of this, Tink quickly flew right in front of Peter, created a small ball of pixie dust in her hands, and threw it at his face, smashing it against his forehead.

At the impact, Peter suddenly stopped. His face was at ease for a moment.

"Tink!" Tink remembered Terence, who was still struggling to pull Peter above the ocean, which was now up to Peter's shoulders. Tink hurriedly took Peter's now wet top and, with great effort and strength, they both very slowly pulled Peter out and high above the ocean.

The two struggled to carry Peter's weight and were already getting tired of holding him up. Tink looked down at Peter and was distraught to see him now looking so miserable, tears rolling down his unmoving face. His eyes remained on the ruined ship as Terence and Tink began to pull him toward Neverland.

"She . . . She's really gone," Peter very weakly asked Tink.

Tink sadly nodded. "I'm so sorry, Peter."

Nothing else was said on their journey back to the now cheerless Neverland.


End file.
